Forging the future
by Oleanne
Summary: With the War of Wrath won, the elves and men of middle earth struggle to build a future and reclaim a scarred land.
1. Chapter 1 Joy and Sorrow

"Adar nin!" The High King turned in surprise at the familiar voice. He was just in time to see his daughter abandon all pretenses and protocols and run towards him. King Finarfin turned away his seneschal with a wave and smiled at his child.

"Artanis." He embraced her, reveling in the joyous moment of reunion. "I thought families were not coming until next month."

"I came as soon as I heard your troops had established a camp." The uncharacteristic waver in his daughter's voice caught Finarfin off-guard.

"Come, my tent is here. Celeborn is well and leads a contingent with Oropher. They should arrive within a few days. " He dismissed his guard as they entered the tent and turned to focus his full attention on his normally brash and ethereal daughter - this far too perceptive and oddly powerful daughter.

"Word of Rúmdir's death caused great grief. How does Oropher fare? His wife was beside herself with sorrow. Friends are caring for her."

"There is no greater sorrow than to loose one's child." Finarfin whispered as his arms encircled this last remaining child.

"You are well Adar?" Her voice echoed clearly in his mind. What had she suffered when her brothers' passed from this world? Only now did he begin to understand her stubborn desire to accompany them in battle. Only now, as his fingers wiped the silent tears from her cheeks, did he understand what it cost her to remain behind. How much did his beloved Eärwen suffer back in Tirion?

"I am whole and well sell-nin. Do not fear." He guided her to sit on the corner bench and pulled her into his arms as her sobs grew in intensity. Finarfin sent a prayer of thanks to Eru that he was one of few people to whom his stalwart daughter would reveal her feelings. "Do not fear. I have survived Morgoth's onslaught with the help of the Valar."

"You could have easily died. Just as they." Artanis halted.

"Please share with me your memories of your brothers. I would hear everything. The good and bad, as well as your pain at their end." He bent and kissed the perfect golden head. Suddenly he saw her grief with clarity. "You felt their pain and their passing, though you were far away." Slowly, sometimes in whispered words and sometimes in mind-speak, Artanis shared stories of Finrod, Angrod, and Aegnor, even as she lamented Angrod's and Aegnor's death at Dagor Bragollach. Uncle Fingolfin had challenged Morgoth to single combat following the carnage at Bragollach but had died there too.

"What of happier times?" Finarfin urged softly. His own cheeks were wet too. She relayed how she and Finrod had entered the realm of Doriath and met King Elu Thingol and his Queen, Melian. She spoke of her first meetings with Celeborn and smiled at memories of her brother establishing the stronghold at Nargothrond. But his excitement at meeting the first men – the kin of 'Bëor The Old' turned quickly into tales of war. Tales of how this friendship had evolved from the bravery of Barahir of the House of Bëor to Finrod's oath of abiding friendship were interspersed with her anguished perceptions of Finrod's suffering and death in Tol-in-Gaurhoth.

_"Why must such tales of love and hope and beauty always be interwoven with suffering and despair?"_

_"I know not why, my daughter. But I pray that the future will bring only joy." _Her father's tears mixed with her own as she spoke of Angrod's and Eldalótë's joy of becoming grandparents as their son Orodreth and his wife Lairiel welcomed a tiny Ereinion into the world. There were joyous visits with Finduilas and Lairiel at Nargothrod. She laughed at memories of the young princess' wit and unusual intelligence even as she wept for the horrors that Tarest, Orodreth's seneschal, had relayed of her grandneice's demise. Dear Finduilas had suffered terribly before her end.

_"They are in Mandos' care now. They are safe from all harm."_

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

The silver Lord turned to survey his contingent. They were the second group to decamp and head towards the sea. Three groups including King Gil-Galad's force, the Edain lead by Elros, and a small group of survivors from Himring would yet follow. The land bore terrible wounds from the war, as did most of the soldiers. At his left, Oropher spoke softly with his eldest son Thranduil. Celeborn held back a tired sigh and focused on the bond to his beloved. She was whole and well. He could feel her anticipation at their reunion.

_"Will I ever feel whole again?"_ He thought as a tear slipped unbidden from his eye. He concealed a move to brush the wetness away by running his hand through his short hair. The silver locks had been singed by dragon fire and his neck still itched terribly. Luckily the burns on his back were healing well. Noenri had given him a cream to prevent scarring, which he consistently applied, for he would not want his wife to look upon burn marks. Galadriel had lost two of her brothers to the fires of Thangorodrim. Again more friends had been lost to Mandos. He turned to Oropher. His cousin had girded his grief away and concentrated on his three remaining sons: Thranduil, Andapher, and Oroduin. His wife and daughter awaited them. Together the family would mourn their lost son. He had long observed the strength they drew from each other. _"Would that you were here, Adar!"_ Celeborn silently lamented. Most of his immediate family had perished in Doriath.

"Celeborn!" Chided Oropher. "Watch that you do not fall from your horse. I do not want to explain to your Lady wife how you slipped from the saddle so near to your reunion."

"I thank you for your concern, Oropher. I intend to return home whole." Celeborn raised an eyebrow wryly. His visage betrayed nothing of his inner turmoil.

"I do not think any of us return whole." Oropher confided quietly as he took in the bleak landscape. His turned suddenly. His keen eyes seemed to pierce through his cousin. "You are no exception."

"Reconstruction will not be easy."

"It has never been before." Oropher agreed. "But at least now the world is free of Morgoth as well as the sons of Fëanor. Most of the kinslayers reside in Mandos." Celeborn nodded grimly in agreement. They had both tried to persuade their beloved Elu Thingol against allowing a Silmaril into the realm of Doriath. But Elu Thingol's decree ended the discussion. How many kingdoms destroyed and how many lives lost to the lust of Fëanor's children for his bauble, albeit a powerful one?

"Healing of souls and hearts is the more difficult task." Celeborn leaned over and gently placed his hand on Oropher's arm in a gesture of support. Rúmdir, one of Oropher's dear sons had passed into Mandos' care nearly a year ago. The upcoming anniversary would not be a happy event. "How are you and your sons?

"I will tend to my family to make sure all of my children recover." Oropher's voice wavered slightly. "Others lost everything dear to them."

"We will never forget those who died to free these lands of Morgoth. Together we will tend the forests and aid nature in the reclamation of the sites scarred by this war. I predict that few of the Sindar will chose to sail. Our lives have always been here. This is our home." Several tears slipped unbidden from Celeborn's eyes. For the war and the great upheaval had truly scarred these lands. No elf was unmoved by the earth's open wounds.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"There will not be much time between the last arrivals and the winter solstice." Galadriel noted. "We must plan a festival that will inspire hope in all."

"Why do I fear that you use the royal we?" Her father lips curled upward. "I do not think you will accomplish much after your husband arrives."

"One can certainly accomplish multiple tasks when one sets their mind to it."

"While we will forever grieve the death of your brothers," Finarfin stated solemnly, although his brow rose slightly. "Grandchildren would ease the sorrow while we await their release. There is still time before I must sail home."

"Incorrigible." Her voice was stern but her eyes twinkled. "We pray often to Eru for such a blessing."

"Then I shall add my prayers to yours." Her father grasped her hand in support at the unexpected admission. She turned away momentarily to regain her bearings.

"Come, we must plan the winter solstice festival to ignite a fire in those all the bereft souls who have given too much for this victory."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

The refuge camps along the sea swelled with returning armies. Finarfin returned first with the Noldor from Aman. Ingwion came next, leading the Vanyar. Nearly a week later, Celeborn and Oropher arrived with their contingent.

"Naneth! Aurmîr!" Oroduin cried in surprise. His brothers turned and moved on mass to greet their Mother and sister. Tears streamed uncontrollably down Andapher's cheeks as he pulled his younger sister into a hug.

"How did you get so tall, little sis?"

"Naneth says she will plan a celebration for my majority." Aurmîr blurted out. Her brother's laughter at her childlike pronouncement caused her to blush.

"That's still over nearly twenty years away!" Andapher pulled her braid teasingly. Months ago, they had buried Rúmdir under a great oak well removed from the battlefield. Family was precious, of that there was no doubt in any of their minds. Thranduil stepped in front and pulled them all into a communal hug.

"Ion-nin!" The Sindarin beauty choked back sobs as their tears mingled with hers. "Thank Eru you have returned!" Oropher quickly joined them and the large family wept for their beloved Rúmdir even as their prayers of thanksgiving swelled together. They had lost but one from their family.

"So many others had suffered much more grievous losses." Thranduil thought sadly. His friend Elrond immediately came to mind as he mused silently. _"Now Elrond would lose his brother and would be bereft of all family. Dear Eru," he prayed, "please protect my family and prevent such heartache from befalling the house of Oropher."_ It was imperative to look out for each other, as beleaguered warriors oscillated between exhilaration at the winning of a long war and debilitating anguish and grief at the terrible toll that had been paid.

"We must celebrate our reunion." Oropher announced as he kissed his wife's straw colored hair. Over her head he could see another joyous reunion of his cousin Celeborn and his golden lady.

"Come beloved." His wife called. "Aurmîr and I have anticipated having everyone together. We have readied a great tent for the whole family." She whispered hoarsely as Oropher kissed away teardrops from her cheeks. The house of Oropher moved on mass towards the celebration.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

_"Do not hide from me."_ She pleaded breathlessly as his kisses and caresses grew more tantalizing. Her hand slid through his too short hair down his perfect torso. _"I can share and bear your hardships and heartaches. But.."_ A moan slipped from her lips. _"I could not bear to ….."_ The barrier to their minds slipped open. She sent silent support back to her beloved as the heartbreaking images of war flooded back through their link. Flames of destruction descended from winged dragons in the sky. Memory of the pain flooded him but she sent memories of their passion to supplant it. This complete melding of minds was a special gift married elves worked hard to achieve.

_"Would that I could have supported you more."_

_"To know that you were safe from harm kept hope in my spirit."_ His gentle voice swelled inside her. _"I would rather you never again wield a weapon with need, my Lady of Light."_

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"We should reach the main refuge camps in four days." King Gil-Galad moved among his warriors instilling hope as he gave orders and instructions. His Seneschal, Tarest, accompanied him and took notes on the situation.

"The food shortage is driving tempers up." Tarest advised softly. The elder elf had served High King Orodreth at Nargothrond.

"Have we not designated most of the whole foods for the Edain?" Gil-Galad questioned.

"Yes, my Lord, but it is still less than they have been used to. Elves are grumbling about the meager ration of lembas as well. Just the smell of whole foods causes many to salivate."

"There will be more to share once we reach the camps. But even there, food is not plentiful. All of the Eldar have agreed not to share lembas with men. We dare not take food from them unless we are prepared to go against that rule." Gil-Galad noted as they crossed into the elven healing tents.

"My King." Healer Merwen's eyes widened and he bowed at Gil-Galad's unexpected entrance.

"Is Master Noenri available?" The chief healer was often summoned to the King's tents for council. It was unusual that the King himself visited the healing tents.

"I will go find him." Merwen stuttered, blushing at the inept speech that had left his lips.

"It is not urgent and I would take time to greet some of our injured." The King informed him. Tarest hovered near, watching with growing awe, as the King visited the injured. The young King had an air about him that inspired hope and loyalty from his people. It was nearly an hour later before Master Noenri appeared, an hour in which Gil-Galad had brightened the lives of countless wounded.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit my King?" The elder healer eyes were slightly glazed and accentuated by dark circles. His skin was pale and slightly translucent. The job of a healer under battle conditions drained the mind, body, and spirit. There was much wisdom in the decree that healers eschew weapons.

"You do not appear to be following your own protocols for rest Master Noenri." The King said gravely, which instigated an uncharacteristic laugh from the eldar healer.

"Similar to you, Sire." Noenri wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes and sat down. A junior healer brought cups of steaming tea. "The healers from the west will need training in how to deal with the psychological after-effects of war. You are not unaware of their tendency to look down upon elves from our lands. They will loathe the idea of asking for our assistance."

"I have found Aran Finarfin most open minded. Perhaps he and his daughter the Lady Galadriel can be of assistance."

"A mild chamomile." The junior healer interrupted awkwardly. He placed the tray on the table and bowed politely.

"I have rotated my healing staff regularly for their health and well-being. There are but a handful that have toiled in triage and surgical units for the entire campaign."

"You are one of those." Gil-Galad raised his brow as he sipped gratefully at the brew. "I expect you to rest and recover your strength."

"I would also place your young charge Elrond in this category. You must be very proud of him. For his young age, he shouldered much pressure and responsibility in the Edain's healing tents. He is there, even now, doing rounds and has more than risen to the challenge while doing double duty as a warrior. He is beyond exhaustion in mind, body, and spirit and has no experience dealing with the rampant battle fatigue that we will be facing."

"And now the peredhil will face the consequences of their choices." Gil-Galad rubbed at his temple. He was returning home to his beloved. His heart swelled with joy at the upcoming reunion with Indiriel. What were the peredhil returning to? "How do you suggest we help them?"

"You and Queen Indiriel adopted them years ago. That bond will be all the more important as they slowly come to terms with their looming separation." Noenri sipped at the brew. "It pains me to know the last of King Elu Thingol's descendents are bereft of close kin. I believe they both secretly hoped that the end of the war would bring a reunion of sorts and not further separation."

XXXXXXXXXXX

Cast of Characters:

Finarfin – High king of the Noldor in the West

Earwin – his wife

Sons Finrod, Angrod, Aegnor (all in Mandos)

Galadriel his daughter – also known as Artanis Nerwen

Celeborn – Galadriel's husband

Lord Manveru, Finarfin's Seneschal

Tarwatirno, Finarfin's chief healer.

Niphendriel (her husband died defending Elrond's mother)

Erestor (her son)

Calimdriel (her daughter) betrothed to Orodiun

Gildor (lord of a wandering group of Noldor)

Ivorchith (one of the Gildor's warriors)

Ereinion Gil-Galad and his wife Indiriel

Tarest – Gil-Galad's Seneschal

Noenri - Gil-galad's chief healer

Silsilalda – a healer under Noenri

Laeste – (was Ereinions nursemaid when he was little and also took care of Elrond)

Cirulian, a Teleri guard in the service of Gil-Galad

Glorfindel – a reborn hero who saved Earendil's life when Gondolin fell.

Herutaurë – The Lord of the Forest, King of the Avari, one of the first elves to awaken

Lady Lillanlai – The Forest Lord's daughter

Kalmë – an Avari guard

Earendil & Elwing – peredhil (half-elves) now departed for the west

Elrond Earendilion

Elros Earendilion

Braigsûl Elrond's willful horse

Lord Oropher

Lady Gellir - his wife

Thranduil – their eldest son

Orodiun (betrothed to Calimdriel)

Andapher

Rúmdir – died during the War of Wrath

Aurmîr – their daughter and youngest child

Vanyar elves – most reside in Aman, save for a group that came to help in the War of Wrath.

King Ingwë Ingweron "The Chief of the chieftains", resides in Valinor on the slopes of Taniqueti

Ingwion – son of Ingwë, led the hosts during the War of Wrath

Orondo – Captain of one of the Vanyar patrol

Ulcále – a Vanyar warrior


	2. Chapter 2 Travels to the refuge camps

"Elrond, wake up!" Elros shook him lightly. "How late did you work in the healing tents?"

"Morning?" Silver eyes opened wearily.

"I let you sleep as long as I dared. You have already missed breakfast. Come, Mikeal will be here shortly to help break down the tent. Best estimates are that we have three days of travel left."

"Said that yesterday." Elrond mumbled but cried when water was splashed in his face.

"Come on El! You have time for a quick wash and we must be on our way." Elros let out a long sigh as he pulled the blanket away from his brother. "I for one am looking forward to breathing in the sea air." He watched approvingly as his brother stretched and rose awkwardly. Ten minutes later they were gathering the final supplies and readying to depart.

"Are you sure you are awake enough to ride that ill-tempered stallion?" Beleford teased. His parents, now deceased, had all but adopted Elros and Elrond when the two young men were freed from Himring.

"You will never win Braigsûl's over with such words."

"He is a horse!" Beleford gestured dramatically.

"Pay no attention to him my noble one." Elrond soothed softly as he offered the horse a precious carrot. No one but Elrond dared to ride the wild horse, who was discovered during the last days of the war. The black stallion nuzzled the elf's long hair affectionately.

"Well, you never have to worry about some one stealing him!" Braigsûl neighed and spat in Beleford's direction.

"I suggest for your own safety that you ride with another group today." Elros teased as Beleford brushed the spittle from his tunic in disgust.

"You are scheduled to meet with King Gil-Galad's group and ride with them this afternoon!" Beleford turned to caution Elrond. "You should keep your steed in line, if you value your future life as an elf. I am sure the elven King is more formal than your brother."

"I thank you for your council." Elrond countered sarcastically.

"I am sure Elrond knows to mind his manners." Elros fought back his laughter. "Are you implying that I am not king material?"

"It may take some growing into, my Captain." Beleford grinned and mounted his steed.

"Until later then." Elros shouted orders and soon his company was on the move. Elrond alternated between riding near his brother and checking on the many wagons that moved the injured. The winter sun was at its peak when they stopped for lunch in the shade of a lonely grove of trees that stood out from the desolate landscape. Beleford, Mikeal, and Elros took stock of their company's progress while Elrond consulted with his healers.

"Eat!" Elros ordered as guided his brother away from the wagons and towards the base of an oak. He handed his brother a portion of thin soup dotted with stale cracker crumbs.

"Thanks." Elrond mumbled as he visibly prepared to taste the unappetizing fare. He did not want to appear ungrateful. It was a feast considering their current supplies, and his stomach surely needed some food. Beleford came forward with a dispatch for Elros.

"Our scouts have spotted King Gil-Galad's contingent. The King and his seneschal will join us within the hour." Beleford paused as he waited for Elros to respond. But his commander was pointedly waiting for his brother to start eating. Elrond brushed a wayward braid behind his ear and took a sip.

"Leave others in charge of the wounded for the afternoon. You need a break and Ereinion would very much like to see you."

"I placed Avrion and Sorlor as the head healers for this afternoon. They should be capable of handling most situations."

"And they well-know where to find you in an emergency. What time did you turn in last night?" Elros teased. For the healers had no qualms barging into their shared tent to summon their chief healer at any hour.

"Only an hour or two before the dawn." Elrond admitted. They both looked up at the sound of horses. Gil-Galad, his personal guard, and his seneschal Tarest drew closer. Gil-Galad smiled at seeing them and turned momentarily to give orders to his guard. They halted fifty feet from the peredhil. The King dismounted and continued unaccompanied.

"May Elbereth smile upon our journey!" Gil-Galad paused as he took in the sight of his former wards and affectionately pulled at one of Elrond's braid. "I see you have been running your brother ragged."

"He would not have chosen differently." Elros answered as his brother shrugged nonchalantly. "May war lie forever in the past." Hands passed over each heart as all near echoed such sentiments. The short rest passed quickly and soon they resumed their journey. A handful of Elros' men were encompassed in a small sea of Gil-Galad's personal guard. The Noldor King and the soon to be King of the Edain spoke of the difficulties they would face one their people reached the sea.

"Finarfin sent maps that identify potential settlement sites." Gil-Galad passed Elros a letter with the High King's seal.

"It will not be easy to get people excited about building a town that we are only going to abandon."

"Your people look to you in admiration and joy. You will be able to motivate them."

"I think you overestimate my influence." Elros began but Beleford snorted.

"You have but to make a speech and people will respond." Beleford predicted.

"We need to take stock of the available supplies and ships. Then we can get more credible estimates for departure dates. I assume that the elves who chose to go west will leave first." Gil-Galad turned at Braigsûl's nervous snort. His mind registered that the quieter of the brothers had been silent for too long. Elrond's horse had slowed its pace in an effort to keep its rider safe. Elrond sat stiffly in the saddle. His eyes glazed but unseeing.

"Elrond?" Gil-Galad reacted instantly to move to his steed in step with Braigsûl. He spoke soothing words to the spooked stallion as he reached over to steady his distant cousin.

"Elrond, wake up!" Elros' voice was thick with worry.

"It is not sleep - a vision perhaps." Gil-Galad carefully slowed their horses to a stop while Elros steadied his brother from the other side. Clipped orders from Tarest led the company around the trio. Gil-Galad dismounted and with Elros' aid they eased Elrond from the saddle.

"This way elfling." Elrond turned to Gil-Galad's voice, his gray eyes clearing to shining silver.

"There will yet be wondrous things, realms both on this soil and on the isle of Númenor. We will be part of their growth." The enthusiasm bubbled through his voice and he smiled brilliantly. It was a smile that warmed Ereinion's heart, for it appeared far to infrequently.

"Yes, we will be part of building that future." Gil-Galad agreed as he threw his own cloak around the now shivering figure. Elros guided his brother to sit safely away from the passing company. It was common that warriors need to rest, although the peredhil were seldom the ones in need. Gil-Galad moved their three horses to safety nearby so he did not have to watch Elros compel his brother to share the vision mind-to-mind, a move he had spoken out against. He returned in time to catch mumbled words.

"…Will not be a part of our lives." He marked the anguish whisper as being Elrond.

"I know." Elros bent to kiss his brother's head. "But we will rejoice in our friends and build families of our own."

"Will I even see your family?"

"I am confident that I can convince Eonwë to allow an exception for you to regularly visit Númenor. Or else a little haircut and a disguise might suffice. " Elros laughed as Gil-Galad gave him a mock glare. The High King bent to assess his kin, gently cupping the chilled face in his warm hands. Silver eyes, vulnerable and pained met his own.

"You are part of my family now." Gil-Galad brushed the disheveled hair away from Elrond's eyes as he marked the effects of the vision: chilled skin, cramping muscles, and a migraine. Unfortunately, there was little Miruvor or sweetened willow bark tea to alleviate these symptoms. "No duties tonight, elfling. You will rest in my pavilion."

"Not an elfling." Elrond protested although his eyes were already closing at the High King's mental suggestion of rest.

"No, you are what two years past your majority and already a diplomat, warrior, and world renown expert on edain healing. To think that you once despaired that you would not be able to accomplish anything! Sleep Elrond, you have more than earned it, elfling." Ereinion's voice had an extra, hypnotic quality to it that the weary elf could not resist. Elros grinned as he watched his brother succumb to sleep.

"You must teach me to do that." He whispered. "It could come in quite handy."

"I doubt that Eonwë would approve of eldar influences on your people. Númenor is to be a gift to your people, a place where you can develop on your own."

"It would be cruel to force a permanent separation between my brother and I." Elros paused before he admitted. "They said they were well-pleased with our parents, yet they would not permit us to see them, not even Adar, who flew overhead in battle. How do they not consider that cruel?"

"They may be powerful beyond our understanding, but I think they too just endeavor to interpret the will of the One. They are not all powerful or all seeing." Gil-Galad waived one of his guards forward. "I assume you would prefer to take Elrond."

"Of course. He will be mortified to hear that he was transported like a babe in front of me." Elros grinned and mounted his horse.

"I doubt you are a stranger to the effects of visions. It is not fitting for a King to berate innocents." Gil-Galad chided. "In my pavilion he will be guaranteed an uninterrupted sleep. You can enlighten me on what you learned of his vision as we continue our journey." Gil-Galad and Tarest lifted the sleeping peredhel to his brother's arms.

Xxxxxxxxx

"Indiriel!" Galadriel exclaimed in delight. Apart from Galadriel the gathered elven leaders were solely male. This was not too surprising as ellon dominated the ruling councils in the west. Most startled slightly at the entrance of Gil-Galad's Queen.

"Greetings King Finarfin, Lady Galadriel, and Lord Ingwion." She smiled and acknowledged the many other noble elves present. "We have brought wagons with food and other supplies from the lowland villages." Cheers sounded as many rejoiced at word of the needed supplies.

"Celebration is premature, for there is also some bad news." Galadriel announced. The room immediately fell quiet.

"In the upheaval many fields were damaged, flooded or swallowed by the sea." Indiriel turned to her friend for support.

"It will be imperative that we quickly survey the lands that once were labeled as 'too dangerous'. We need to identify and prepare additional fields for the spring planting, which is but three months away."

"Winter will be lean." Indiriel warned.

"Supplies must be divided and shared with the second born, who are generally less able than the eldar to go without sustenance." Galadriel's statements were met with outrage.

"We have fought hard for this victory. Our warriors should not be subjected to starvation." Someone exclaimed.

"No one said starvation." Galadriel's voice was lost in a sea of comments.

"Order! Order!" Finarfin's voice boomed over the din. Quiet immediately fell. "A plan is required. All must work together to supply everyone with sustenance." The High King nodded towards his daughter.

"We have secured supplies for preparing lembas." Galadriel announced.

"The ellith will gather to bake lembas next week." Indiriel grasped Galadriel's hand in a sign of mutual support.

"We can ascertain what effect if any the upheaval had on the ocean." Cirdan proposed. "We may be able to organize regular fishing expeditions to reap the bounty of the sea." Many heartily approved this proposal.

"My contingent can explore the surrounding forests to see what game may be hunted." Prince Ingwion offered.

"It would be best to include the edain companies in this process. Then they will be reassured by our commitment to provide food for all."

"They have much experience in farming. Perhaps that is where they can make the greatest impact." Indiriel wisely counseled.

"We should also send some food to those on the trail." Cirdan noted. "I received word from King Gil-Galad that his companies and those of the Edain were in dire need of provisions."

"But they are scheduled to arrive in three days time!"

"For men three days without food is long indeed."

Xxxxxxxxx

"Lords Glorfindel and Orondo approach with a small party and pack horses." Mikeal informed his Lord.

"Really?" Elros immediately turned and hurried with his trusted friend. Sure enough ten elves were approaching along the trail. Their telltale glow and golden hair immediately marked them as Vanyar.

"Glorfindel! Tell me you have brought provisions!" Elros called.

"Greetings to you as well, Elros." Glorfindel laughed and pointed at the five pack horses. "Yes, Aran Finarfin sent some provisions in the hopes that your remaining journey would be more pleasant."

"Thank Elbereth!" Elros exclaimed. "Mikeal organize men to bring the supplies to the cooks." There was little need for Mikeal to organize anything as men were already lining up to volunteer. Hunger had been a constant companion on the week's journey.

"Should we ration these supplies for the next three days?"

"I believe so. Times are lean but already people are banning together to fish, hunt, and plan for the spring planting. We will need your people's input." Many of the surrounding men cheered and promised to help with the planting.

"We have plenty of farmers and fishermen." Elros smiled at his men's reactions. "All will pitch in to help feed the populace."

"Where is your shadow?" Glorfindel alluded to Elrond's absence.

"Hidden in Ereinion's tent, enjoying a well deserved rest," Elros divulged. "I am afraid years of double duty have caught up with him."

"It is nothing that a few months away from pressures and responsibilities will not undo. Master Noenri was also driven beyond exhaustion and wrote to ask our permission to rest in the Vanyar encampment by the sea."

"No one will recognize him there." Elros laughed at the thought of the Noldor King's chief healer hiding out among the Vanyar.

"Indeed not. You look tired Elros." Glorfindel whispered in worry, for the peredhel looked pale. "Are you well?"

"This war has taken its toll. I look forward to building our homes in peace." He paused and smiled as his stomach emitted a growl. "A few good meals would be much appreciated."

"Then come let us share some ale while we wait around the mess tent for that meal." Glorfindel grinned.

"Ale?" Elros perked up at the thought. Glorfindel and Orondo both dismounted and spent several minutes praising and thanking their steeds before Glorfindel moved to where his bedroll and supplies were usually stashed.

"I trust you can rustle up a cot and a few extra things in exchange for this." He lifted the half keg from the horse. "I expect a handful of us can enjoy a pint. It is not much."

"But it is much appreciated!" Elros exclaimed. Indeed glasses were shared so many could have a few sips of the brew, and many spirits were lifted.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

In the quiet of the night only a mile away, Ereinion indulged again in his beloved's letters. His heart surged with joy at their imminent reunion. The war had forced an unwanted separation. Pained mumbles drew him from his thoughts and he walked over to the corner where Elrond mumbled in his sleep. A sheen of perspiration painted the younger elf's brow and his features were tense as if he fought a foe in his dreams. The years of battle would certainly not have eased the nightmares that had occasionally plagued Elrond. Of course, the young elf would never speak of it. The strained features and shadows that sometimes darkened the normally bright eyes were telltale signs of unsettled nights.

"All is well. Be at peace ion-nin (my son)." Gil-Galad stroked the dark strands gently as he strengthened the healing trance. His brow furled in worry at what he sensed from his son. There were wounds to the fëa that were coupled with a deep seated loneliness and longing – nay almost a craving. _Was this from the exhaustion due to the strain of healing so many? Or did this speak to something else? _ He shook his head in puzzlement and made a mental note to speak to Healer Noenri about what he had discovered. Then Ereinion sent a prayer to the One as he watched his foster sons' anguished features relax into peaceful sleep. _"Thank Eru for bringing you and your brother to me. My heart sorrows for what Earendil and Elwing have lost even as I rejoice in what Indiriel and I have gained. For you and your brother are precious treasures, ion-nin."_


	3. Chapter 3 Reunions

Glorfindel marveled at the effects of one good meal and a few sips of ale. The men were soon in fine spirits and singing commenced. Victory songs soon gave way to bawdy tavern tunes. It was some time before Glorfindel realized that his companion had stopped singing.

"Too quiet." Elros moaned quietly. The words were barely audible to Glorfindel's sensitive ears. He turned to ask what was wrong and was met by a set of glazed gray eyes that stared unseeingly back. Both peredhil had the strength of mind that prevented even the Lady of light from probing their thoughts. But, these gray eyes were unguarded and he could easily delve into those thoughts. Glorfindel was stunned by what he read in the silver orbs: a depth of loss and loneliness, which made his heart ache in sympathy.

"My Lord Elros." He said a little louder than he intended, drawing the curiosity of those around. Elros did not respond immediately, but after some moments blinked slowly. Confusion painted the noble features. Glorfindel understood the need for privacy, having been a close confidant of King Turgon, but vowed to question his friend at a later time.

"I trust you have not forgotten your promise of a cot made in exchange for ale. I am much fatigued from the days journey." The Vanya grinned to cover his concern.

"Glorfindel, forgive me. I had forgotten." Elros turned to Mikeal and Beleford. His good humor returned. "Far be it for us to deprive the Balrog slayer of his rest. Shall we give a cheer of thanks to our elven friends for providing the meal?" The crowd roared its thanks with lifted glasses.

"Mikeal, can you guide Glorfindel to my tent? He can take Elrond's cot."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"_Two more days."_ Gil-Galad thought as he savored his final sip of vervain tea. The aches and pains from the last frantic battle still plagued the King, although his back was much improved in the weeks that had passed. _"Two more days until he would again be called upon again to use all his tact and diplomatic skills to negotiate the treacherous terrain of thoughts and cultures that divided the elves into so many different tribes. He tried to push aside for a moment the addition of men, for surely, Elros would be able to unit his disparate peoples. Two more days until he held his beloved Indiriel again." _He placed his cup on the tray and removed the second dish and set it aside so his page would not clear it away.

"Am I interrupting you Sire?" Tarest paused waiting until he had regained his liege's attention.

"The repairs?"

"Are underway. Several of the healing wagons were damaged in our descent over the rocky terrain." Tarest continued.

"How long before they finish?" Gil-Galad planned to let his foster son sleep as long as possible. Had the young elf garnered any time to rest apart from that induced by his appearance before Eonwë?

"I think an hour yet. Then the remaining injured will be prepared for transport."

"Noenri did not send his usual summary of the injured. Was there an emergency overnight?"

"I spoke with Merwen. He said there were several emergency surgeries. Master Noenri was uneasy about their transportation but wanted to get them to the seaside camps as soon as possible. Supplies are dangerously low and much equipment was sent ahead."

"Any word from the scouts and the night watch?"

"Lord Gildor reports that all was calm overnight. The forward scouts also saw nothing to cause unease; however, the rear scouts encountered several stray orcs." Gil-Galad frowned at this news.

"Send word to the band from Himring. Then make ready for our departure. I would have us begin our journey as soon as the healers are ready."

"Yes, Sire." Tarest paused, momentarily gazing on the elf who was deep in slumber on the corner cot. "How fares the young prince?"

"Exhausted as are many in our ranks. I will wake him soon."

"I did not expect one so young to fight so well nor to be so gifted in the healing arts. It is a strange dichotomy."

"Need drives both endeavors."

"And a genuine desire to make a positive difference." Tarest admired the young elf's tenacity.

"But how to convince him to remain at the elven camp and distract him from these endeavors long enough to allow him to rest and recuperate?"

"Lord Oropher was drawing up plans to assess the state of the surrounding forests." Tarest began.

"An excellent idea." Gil-Galad exhaled audibly at the thought. "That should take months. A perfect solution - days spent among the trees and in the company of Oropher's sons and nights among family."

"Glad to be of service Sire." Tarest bowed. "I will make ready our departure." Gil-Galad walked over to the peacefully sleeping figure. At least the deep healing trance had warded away ill dreams. He bent and kissed the dark forehead.

"Hear my voice. Come back to the light my son." Gil-Galad commanded as he reached out with his thoughts to Elrond's spirit. He marveled again at the beauty and diversity he heard in the peredhel's song even as he recognized clips of sadness, loss, and pain. He could still feel signs of fatigue that plagued most of the returning warriors. Moments later silver eyes shone up at him. They did not glint with their usual light and energy. But Ereinion was heartened by the small recovery he sensed. "Good morning Elrond. We ride soon. After the solstice celebrations, I will need you to assess the surrounding forests with the sons of Oropher."

Xxxxxxxxx

Erestor and Durgin were part of Indiriel's personal guard. The two elves stood outside the tent that the ellyth would use to prepare lembas once the solstice celebration was past.

"Halt," Durgin commanded. "I was told there would be six masons, but you are eight."

"We have two new recruits." Edebrion, the master mason informed them as he pointed out the two new elves. "They will be hauling the sand up from the beach and will mix the mortar." The two bowed their heads respectfully to the guards.

"So noted." Durgin said after studying the two for a long moment. "The hearth will be constructed over there. Erestor will inform the ellyth that you are ready to begin." Edebrion nodded and turned to his crew.

"Off-load the bricks in a pile over there and go bring the other supplies." Wheel barrels where immediately lifted and rolled to the indicated site. Songs began as the workers began to off-load the bricks. The Lady Galadriel glide from the tent as Erestor emerged awkwardly behind her. She scanned the group then immediately turned to the master bricklayer, although they had not been introduced.

"Greetings Master Edebrion."

"My Lady Galadriel." Edebrion bowed deeply to offset the trembling of his voice. "How may I be of service?"

"We are blessed to have your skills." Galadriel musical voice wove around them like a spell. "We require your input on the design, to accommodate the preparation of large batches of lembas."

Xxxxxxxxx

"Stop that inane chatter!" Elros yelled at two of his dearest friends. His face contorted strangely in anger. Mikeal was Elros' second during the war, while Elrond and Beleford the next in line.

"Surely, their joking does not deserve such ire." Glorfindel smiled as laid his hand on Elros' shoulder. They had paused for lunch. The peredhel made visible attempts to control his uncharacteristic anger and several minutes later indeed succeeded.

"Tempers are short and flaring." Glorfindel soothed. "But we will soon be with our loved ones. Perhaps I can brew you a calming tea?" He watched the peredhel struggle against anger again and finally, a calm Elros replied.

"Thank you Glorfindel. Tea would be most welcome." Glorfindel squeezed his shoulder lightly in response and left to fulfill the request. When he returned Elros had finished his meal and was talking animatedly with his friends.

"Tea." Glorfindel interrupted.

"Thank you." Elros gratefully accepted. His eyes were now shining with mirth. "Are you my keeper now?"

"Do you need one?" Glorfindel quipped.

"No," came the clipped response.

"Are you unsettled that your brother rides with Ereinion?" Glorfindel paused but Elros made no response. "Do not begrudge him a few days rest. You will have ample time together." Ire flashed momentarily in the silver eyes but seconds later it was Elros' normal and calm voice that responded.

"I am unsettled. But it is not due to Elrond. It is nothing that a walk by the sea will not undo."

Xxxxxxxxxx

"There are pens already set up for our horses, Sire." Tarest relayed Finarfin's message. Dusk was already falling. The brisk winter air was biting at the weary riders. Spirits lifted as crossed the final hills and their destination glimmered in the moonlight. Tents and makeshift settlements that spread further than the eye could see. The outer perimeter was well guarded with small dunes and outposts rose regularly along its length. The peoples protected here and at scattered settlements by the sea, were the precious few who had survived an age of war.

"We made it with a few days to spare." Elrond's voice was an uncharacteristic whisper. The solstice was nearly upon them.

"There will be many happy reunions soon." Gil-Galad smiled in anticipation. Lord Gildor and his patrol resumed their song. Their happiness at returning to the sea was contagious. It was not long until elves surged forward to greet them and care for their horses. The elf who stepped up to care for Braigsûl was met by a glare and a warning snort. His eyes immediately widen with surprise. Elrond dismounted and apologized.

"I will brush Braigsûl down and care for him myself."

"Still favoring such fiery mounts?" A familiar voice voiced the question in the tones of a compliment, earning Braigsûl's attention.

"Erestor!" Elrond exclaimed as he happily embraced his friend. "It is good to see you Mellon-nin!"

"Thank Elbereth you have returned safe and whole for a change." Erestor returned, although he noted how tired his friend appeared. His next comments were but a whisper. "I am sorry to hear that fates will part you and your brother."

"It was both his choice and duty." The pain in Elrond's voice was not easily disquised.

"Still I rejoice at your choice. I could not imagine life without your friendship." Erestor squeezed his friend's shoulder. Elrond was too overcome to reply. After a short silence, he turned to his horse, whose ears twitched with curiosity.

"Braigsûl, this is Lord Erestor a trusted friend. Erestor, this is Braigsûl, a fine steed who kept me safe on a rather exhilarating if ill thought out race against Elros." The proud horse eyed Erestor with a haughty gaze before lowering his head in a gesture of peace and friendship. Erestor greeted the horse affectionately and whispered much praise.

"Elrond!" A happy cry pierced the air. "Can you leave your horse and come greet us?" Queen Indiriel teased. Joyous reunions were taking place all around them.

"Go, I will take care of Braigsûl." Erestor promised.

"Thank you." Elrond smiled although his eyes held tears. He moved to greet Indiriel. The silver Queen hugged him tightly and ran her hands up and down his arms.

"Elrond! Thank the powers you are returned to us, dear one." She said as she kissed his temple. She was tall, almost the height of him. Ereinion had not moved from his beloved's side. Cirdan greeted Elrond with his characteristic pat on the shoulder.

"It is good to see you." The Mariner voice was gruff and his eyes were unusually shiny. Elrond looked around but did not see his brother.

"Elros?"

"He went with his people to a settlement closer to the sea. He will return for the Solstice celebration."

"Come, you both need rest and as good a meal as we can provide." She moved closer into Ereinion's embrace. The pair seemed to glow in each other's presence. "Elrond, congratulations on reaching your majority! Ereinion planned that celebration years ago. I heard you were more than surprised."

"It was unexpected to say the least." The silver eyes lit with mirth as the full lips curved upward.

"You will have to share your view of the event." She smiled as Ereinion squeezed her closer. "Perhaps tomorrow for you both look weary. I have taken the liberty of arranging a tent for you and your brother. He came to greet me yesterday and promised that he would return soon."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"How I have missed you." He kissed her gently as he reveled in the after glow of their reunion. Their bodies fit together perfectly. He sent a prayer to the One in thanks for his mate.

"Ereinion." Her voice hitched slightly. "The healers say that I may never fully recover. We may not be able to have children together."

"My love, we know not what the future will bring. Let us rejoice in the present. I have been blessed with you. Eru loves us. He must. It is the only explanation for us finding each other. I would us live fully in the present. Who knows what the future may bring? Of my large extended family there is only us, the Peredhil and my Aunt and Uncle remaining. Whatever adventures lie ahead, we will face them together."

"But will they not call for you to remarry? For you to beget a heir?"

"You are my soul mate. I could not bear to think of life with another. Maybe it is not written that we should bring an elfling into this land. Maybe our child must wait ages until we travel to Valinor for true healing. I cannot see the future and neither can you. But we will find out together."

"Together." She vowed, although her heart was filled with foreboding.


	4. Chapter 4 Kindling renewal

"The small contingent from Himring arrived earlier today." Gideon reported. He had just returned from scouting duty and had spotted the returning warriors during the night.

"How do they dare show their faces among elves? The last act of their Lords, the sons of Feanor, was yet another kinslaying to regain the Silmarils." His friend heatedly declared.

"In the end Maedhros was said to perish in fire as he returned the silmaril back to the earth. It is said that Maglor's silmaril was thrown the sea and that he has lost his mind and shall forever wander middle earth as an outcast."

"And what of the two Vanyar warriors who had come from Aman to aid us in this war only to lose their lives months before they were to head home! What justice is there that this kinslayer still lives?"

"Justice is a fickle lady."

"Most unlike your beloved." The Noldor smiled as the topic changed.

"They are to arrive from the village tomorrow. Our family will blossom in this time of peace."

"Are you then to give up your position among Gildor's wandering tribe?"

"I would become a farmer if my beloved would but ask."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"I would not miss this night of celebration." Indiriel kissed his cheek gently, but Ereinion turned and captured her lips with his, suffusing the kiss with longing and the promise of more.

"Our duty calls for us to inspire hope in our people. But my heart longs for a more private celebration." His hands moved lower.

"We promised to go." Her mumbled words caressed his neck. "We have ignored all others for several days."

"I believe they can live without us for awhile." He slipped his hand under her chemise.

"But what of Elrond and Elros?"

"They are grown now. They will embark on their own destinies. Besides we shall see them in a few more hours."

"Ereinion."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Where are your nephew and his wife?" Finarfin's Seneschal inquired. His Lord was busy discussing logistics with his gathered council.

"_Making up _for years of forced separation." Galadriel said tonelessly. They turned at melodious laughter and moments later the Noldor princess' silver Lord bent to kiss his Lady.

"An admirable endeavor." Celeborn smirked as his next comment was shared mind-to-mind. _"Shall we seek compensation for our too numerous lonely nights spent longing for each other?" _The images he sent her brought color to her pearl complexion.

"_The dance started in public can seek blissful completion in private."_ She returned as her hand ghosted down his chest.

"Has everyone arrived?" Finarfin turned to survey the wide beach. They had specifically chosen the site for this ceremony as it was nearly equal distance to the four of the campsites and even the edain and Vanyar would come to participate.

"I sent Lord Glorfindel to retrieve the peredhil. Ereinion and Indiriel should arrive shortly. All others are seated and await the ceremony."

"Then make ready the fire." Finarfin smiled as he watched his son in law kiss his daughter's hand as silent promises flashed obviously between them.

"_Light the torch indeed."_ Galadriel's laughter floated in his head.

"_As you wish beloved." _Celeborn departed. King Gil-Galad and his Queen meandered to their places, only too happy to abdicate their responsibility for the solstice rituals. The couple sat in seats of honor but were no required to lead the festivities.

"We pray to Eru on this, the shortest day of the year. We remember the gifts of life and light as we herald the return of the sun." Aran Finarfin began the ceremony. Soon all were chanting the ancient versus in praise of light and life.

"The emissary of the Valar delivers the flame of light." Galadriel's voice rang out as Lord Celeborn bore the flaming torch through the shadowed crowd. The small torch burst into a bright bonfire as the Sindar Lord touched his burden to the readied pyramid of dried wood and twig. Songs burst forth in Quenya, Sindarin and other tongues as all chanted in their native languages. The ritual songs evolved into dances celebrating the promise and hope of the future.

Glorfindel walked through the crowd, carrying two bowls of a thin stew. His charges would need it to offset toasts of Edain whiskey. As he approached, it was clear that Elros and Thranduil were singing loudly and not a little off-key. Elrond sat quietly beside them, a disarmingly innocent smile painted features that glowed with the magical light of his mixed heritage.

"_Tis the light of Lúthien." _Galadriel's voice echoed in his mind. Glorfindel turned around in confusion but did not see his illustrious cousin in the crowd. He wrote it off to his imagination.

"Elros! Elrond! Please humor me and have a bite to eat." Glorfindel smiled as he handed over the dishes.

"It seems we have acquired a Vanya nurse maid." Elros announced wryly, causing Thranduil and his brothers eyes to bulge wide at the peredhel's audacity. Elrond's smile was unchanged and he still gazed with awe-filled eyes at the bonfire, now circled by dancing figures. Glorfindel bet that his friend had not heard the comments over the din of the songs that whirled around them.

"Here Elros." He handed him a bowl and sat down between Eärendil's two sons. As he guided the bowl into Elrond's hand, the somewhat glazed silver eyes focused on him for the first time. Their gaze momentarily so keen that the Vanya swore they swept his very soul.

"Thank you Glorfin." Elrond's tongue tripped over the final syllabus. But the light of his smile seemed to bring warmth and healing. A vision of this more reticent peredhel seated in the place of honor among a throng in a great hall dangled before his eyes.

"Glorfingel?" The slurred voice carried worry and Glorfindel blinked in confusion for a moment until the vision passed and the image of the great lord was replaced by the tipsy young elf beside him.

"Just a memory of another celebration." Glorfindel smiled at the usually far too serious elf beside him, suddenly finding himself agreeing with Elros' at times heavy-handed methods of forcing his brother out periodically for celebrations. The bonfire light danced and flickered a promise of peace in a world now cleansed of Morgoth and his minions. Glorfindel left the brothers with Oropher's family and went to seek the Vanyar. Orondo and several of the other Vanyar had already charmed several ellith out to the dance circle.

"Niphendriel, I had heard that you and your daughter arrived safely." Glorfindel turned towards the slender elf with beautiful dark hair. Erestor's Mother was an enigma – a feisty survivor of Doriath with a sarcastic sense of humor. There was little mystery in where Elrond's friend had inherited his personality.

"My Lord Glorfindel, Elbereth has truly blessed us with this outcome. At least we will enjoy some years of peace for a change."

"You do not think it will last?"

"This is not Aman. Here we forever struggle against challenges."

"Is that not what makes life worth living?"

"And yet to see my beloved again, I must somehow reject this glorious land and sail west."

"But not as of yet, my dear Lady. Perhaps you might grace me with a dance or two?"

"It would be my pleasure, my Lord." She smiled knowingly. "I can not yet foresee the day when I would be tired of these lands." The pair walked off to join the circle of dancers. Calimdriel waved at her Naneth. She and Orodiun were already whirling in the great circle around the bonfire.

"You did not wish to partake of Elros' whiskey?" Calimdriel teased.

"Far better to dance with you." Orodiun returned as he lifted her up in time with the music.

"They did not offer." She teased knowingly.

"You should have heard Elros just asking Lisbon to dance. Never have I heard such a line!" Orodiun told her conspiratorially. "It was something to the effect of 'you can tell your children that you danced with the King of Men.' I have never heard Thranduil laugh so hard."

"You must be joking! And she accepted?" They had come full circle, but only Oropher and his wife remained seated. She saw Elrond retreating towards the ocean.

"Years ago he even charmed a few dances from the Lady Galadriel, much to her husband's chagrin."

"Are you talking about me?" Elros teased as he passed. Lisbon waved.

"Do you always believe yourself to be the center of conversation?" Orodiun tried to huff indignantly but he could not keep a straight face while Calimdriel was laughing.

"We were talking about your impressive methods for gaining a dance partner."

"It is a line I am unlikely to hear again." Lisbon agreed.

"Would it have worked on you?" Elros grinned.

"Perhaps." Calimdriel giggled as Orodriun glared in mock indignation.

Xxxxxxxxxx

The mysterious elf shook his head in concern as he watched his charge strip down to modest underwear. He had been charged to secretly guard the peredhel, who obviously now intended to join the hundreds of other revelers in the cold water. A midnight swim did not seem like the safest prospect for the inebriated revelers. The exotic peredhel had the same misgivings and stood momentarily motionless before lifting his head to look up at the sky as if seeking a sign. A soft sigh of disappointment escaped him before he strode purposefully to join the other swimmers in the surf. His clandestine guardian stationed himself stealthily among the dune grass. The song and banter from the young elves drowned out the roar of the waves. In the moonlit night, the silent guardian had little trouble keeping tabs on the young peredhel. Yet, even he was surprised when a hooded elf silently approached the abandon clothing carrying a wriggling cloth bag. The assassin bent to examine the clothing more closely.

"You would do well to tighten the drawstring and hinder your slippery friend's escape, least he bite his master." The dark one's archaic language hissed harshly as his knife drew a thin line across the would-be assassins' neck.

"Who are you?" The Noldo returned. His language and cadence clearly marked him as one born later, after the exiles returned to middle earth.

"My identity is not your concern. My Lord requires no fanfare or pageantry unlike you Noldor and your Kings. He is far older than any here. As the Herutaurë, a Lord of the First Ones, he bids me to remind you and your co-conspirators that this Peredhel is bound now to the Eldar and has the protection of those who have settled these lands since their awakening." The knife moved lower as the dark protector twisted the Noldo's left arm painfully and it snapped. No sound left the now quivering lips, even though the knife cut a symbol in the dark tunic. "Let this injury and mark ever remind you of the ancient forest dwellers. Now you will dispatch your poisonous pet with your own knife."

"You are a fool if you would allow me to gain access to my knife."

"With one useless arm, you seek to best one who has been a warrior before your Adar was even born?" The ancient voice was threatening. "I will not have any poisonous snake released to bring harm to any elf or ally on this eve."

Xxxxxxxxxx

"Where did your brother go?" Calimdriel inquired.

"I am not his keeper." Elros shrugged, before giving Orodiun a cheeky grin then bowing to his betrothed. "Shall we dance, my Lady?"

"You are incorrigible!" Calimdriel laughed out loud. But she took the peredhel's outstretched arm.

"My days are numbered." He grinned to Orodiun. "Best to use my time judiciously!" Then his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer than tradition dictated. "What better way than dancing with a beautiful elleth!" But even as they joined the circle he whispered a cautious question to his partner.

"Orodiun will not be upset that we danced?"

"No, Elros, he quite expected such a move from you. Your reputation precedes you."

"But you argued about Elrond." Elros raised his eyebrow pointedly.

"Your choices are of great interest."

"And the consequences of our choices."

"I am afraid that Elrond has already been singled out. It takes elves a long time to accept new ideas. No one dare approach him. I wanted to go pull him into the dance. You know how he enjoys it."

"I am thankful that my brother has such friends. In time, elves will learn to accept his choice. But Elrond stills feels guilty that you were placed in danger just for being his friend. He would not want to be the source of discord between you and Orodiun. Your betrothed is right to worry." He lifted and spun her as the dance dictated, though he also pulled her close enough to kiss her cheek.

"Yet, does not giving in to such bullying only encourage it as it accomplishes the same as they were seeking in the first place?"

"Perhaps, but your safety is not something that Elrond would ever trifle with."

Xxxxxxxxxx

The revelers left the ocean together. Its chilly temperature encouraged the mass exodus, although much joy could be heard from chattering lips. One tall slim figure broke off from the group and turned towards the more rocky shore, which was under guard of the ancient warrior. Elrond bent to pick up his clothes but paused when he sensed the presence of another. His eyes darted but he could not see anyone in the dim light and he quickly gathered the clothes together and darted back to the crowd. The guard followed his charge easily and found the elf, now clothed, crouched and shivering in the mists of the crowd yet somehow alone.

"Greetings Penneth." The guard squatted nearby but not too near to frighten the youth, who stared at him silently. He noted the confusion that was plainly written in the silver eyes. Perhaps the young one had never heard such ancient speech. "Congratulations upon reaching your majority." The guard paused but the elf did not respond.

"My Lord sent me to remind you of his invitation, which he issued at Gil-Galad's marriage ceremony."

"The Lord of the Forest?" Elrond managed to stutter from lips that were blue with cold.

"Yes, Eluchil (heir of Elu)." The warrior nodded and looked down at the cloak and towel that was flung over his arm. "Allow me to aid you." He dropped all barriers and allowed the astute silver gaze to probe his mind freely. The young elf was surprisingly gentle in the touch upon his mind. Moments later his charge nodded in agreement. Then he wrapped the warm cloak around the shivering figure and moved behind him to briskly dry the dripping locks.

"You are yet very young in this world Eluchil." The guard whispered soothingly. "No one has taught you the ways of the forest. The children of Oropher, upon their majority, spent years with us to learn the voices of nature and listen to the song of the world. Think upon this and call to the forest when you are ready. We will respond."

"Who are you?" The momentary bewilderment of the youth allowed the ancient warrior to glimpse the fractured beauty of the young elf's soul. Sympathy and concern flooded the guardian and his next words were full of compassion.

"There is no need to hide your true nature from us. We are not ones to judge or set rules. We simple draw our joy from nature's wonders. My Lord and your ancestor Elu awoke on the same day and therefore considered themselves brothers. Our tribe rejected the rules and order of what was to become Doriath and settled instead among the forest."

"Were you at odds?"

"Never at odds. Our views and choices were different but we respected each other's opinions. We rejoice in living in harmony with Eru's creations." He gently urged the younger elf to rise. "Allow me to escort you to your tent."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

"Tis finally time for our private celebration." Ereinion whispered to his Queen.

"The boys?" Indiriel turned back towards the dancers. Elros was clearly visible, dancing with yet another partner.

"Elros is well guarded and the Captain reported that Elrond has retired already. They are safe."

"They enjoyed the festivities."

"And soon perhaps, so will we. But in a far different manner." Ereinion eyes narrowed suggestively, which made his wife blush. "Happy Yule." He pulled her closer and bent to kiss her neck.


	5. Chapter 5 Danger

"Elros, shall we step outside to discuss things?" King Gil-Galad's softly voiced request gave Elros a chance to rein in his emotions. Even so, he was still muttering under his breath when they emerged from the council. The heated debate had clearly incited the peredhel. Over fifty representatives were gathered to debate methods for procuring enough food for everyone. But what started as a discussion evolved into arguments. Where should the fields be located? What should be planted? Who should be in charge? They had not dared to broach the more difficult topics of where to locate permanent dwarven, edain and elven settlements, for the dwarves boasted that their traditional lands remained while elven lands had been lost to the see. Perhaps later in the week they might discuss plans to build ships that would help transport elves to Aman and men to Númenor. The peoples that remained would also need to build ships and settlements. When Gil-Galad and Elros finally emerged from the oppressive atmosphere of the tent, Gil-Galad grasped Elros' arm gently.

"Walk with me. You look like you could use some air."

"What!" Elros' obvious irritably continued to surprise Ereinion.

"Whatever the backward opinions of elves from the west, discussions go better with ellith present."

"Where are they?" The young peredhel could not disguise his impatience.

"Indiriel and Galadriel are part of the Yavannildi." Ereinion continued when he saw Elros' puzzlement. "It is said that Yavanna made the first lembas to strengthen the elves on their great journey. Queen Melian taught the secret of their preparation to a select few ellith in Doriath. Galadriel and Indiriel are leading their preparation this week."

"I did not realize." Elros said quietly. His shifting moods caught Ereinion off guard. "What do you wish to discuss?"

"Are you feeling well? Do you suffer the after-effects of too much celebration?" Ereinion was concerned.

"I am not hung over!" Elros griped, trying in vain to master his anger. "That was two days ago! And I am not the son who had to be woken up for dinner."

"This anger is out of character, Elros. What bothers you?" Ereinion paused, hoping that Elros would be more forthcoming. When the pause burgeoned into a yet longer silence, Ereinion continued. "Negotiations are always trying. But Elros, you have always been a consensus builder. I have always relied on your even handedness when negotiating with your people."

"I am fine."

"None of us are fine. It takes time for the spirit to recover from the horrors of war."

"Is that what plagues Elrond?"

"Does this impatience stem from your worry over Elrond?"

"No!" Elros nearly shouted, then continued in more measured tones. "I mean of course I worry about Elrond." Elros drew in a deep breath as he finally realized that Ereinion was genuinely concerned.

"A build up of emotions over these years of war." Ereinion prompted. None of them was unaffected by the war. Perhaps Elros' odd behavior could be written off to the tremendous stress of the past few years. But instinctively, Ereinion worried that it was more than that.

"Truly I am fine."

"But impatient and on edge. I heard you are not sleeping well."

"Am I under watch?"

"I may not be your real Adar, but I care greatly for you and worry over your well-being."

"Forgive me. You have been more than a Father to Elrond and I." Elros turned. "I have been anxious and restless. I know not where these feelings stem. Have you talked with Master Noenri about Elrond?"

"Before Yule. Most healers rotated between the field tents and in the settlements, away from the war. Noenri, Elrond and a handful of other remained in the healing tents under battlefield conditions through this entire campaign. Now, these healers are all suffering. Their symptoms are not identical, but Noenri believes that with rest and time away from their duties all will recover, including your brother."

"Noenri hides among the Vanyar."

"Healing taxes the mind and spirit."

"Noenri requested several times that I send Elrond to the villages."

"You needed him for things beyond healing. Do not worry, I plan to send him with Oropher's sons to assess the forest."

"He will enjoy that."

"I think this latest lethargy stems more from being coerced into drinking far too much edain whiskey." Ereinion gave a teasing smile.

"He needed to relax. He worries far too much."

"As do you." Tarest signaled his King that the meeting was about to resume. "It seems we must return. Promise me that you will tell me if something ails you."

"Yes Adar." Elros rolled his eyes mockingly.

"And as difficult as it might be, try to employ your legendary negotiation skills. While you may not need to deal with elves once you settle in Númenor, it is unwise to burn bridges. Also, treasure your friends among men. Continued outbursts might cause poor Beleford to suffer a heart-attack."

"You read Elrond's healing book for the Edain?" Elros gaped.

"Skimmed." Ereinion put his arm around Elros' shoulder and motioned to the tent. "Shall we?"

Xxxxxxxx

"Elrond! Are you awake?" Thranduil barged into Elrond's tent. Morning was half over but Elrond had clearly only just dressed. He was seated, pulling a comb through wet hair. "Peredhel, are you well?" He could see a mix of emotions play over his friend's features. Obviously, the term 'peredhel' evoked some pain before Elrond realized that his friend had not meant it in a derogatory manner.

"Thranduil?" Elrond looked to be squinting. Oropher's son drew closer and tilted his friend's chin better assess his condition. The gray eyes seemed dim in the too pale features.

"Elrond, are you well?" His friend shook his head as if dazed. "You and Elros are unique as peredhil. I meant no…"

"I know." Elrond sighed quietly. "It is alright."

"It was used otherwise?" Thranduil asked in concern. Elrond nodded slightly.

"In Himring." The peredhel closed his eyes and shook his head to clear away the memory. "I would rather not think on that time – a time of many hardships with a smattering of good."

"Like now." Thranduil looked down slightly, but Elrond could easily read his thoughts. The family still grieved greatly over Rúmdir's death.

"I am sorry for your loss. Rúmdir is missed by many." Elrond's voice ended in a whisper. For a moment there was silence.

"Orodiun and Andapher seek respite in the forest. I fear that we are needed to keep them out of trouble." Thranduil's voice lifted in amusement as he made an effort to escape the grief that threatened to overwhelm him. "I thought the song of the forest might do you good as well. It seems that next week we are to have an official assignment there."

"Forest?" Elrond repeated, his whole demeanor easing. "I would enjoy hearing forest melodies again." His heart swelled as it finally dawned on him what exactly his soul ached and yearned for. How ironic that he missed the songs of the Maiar – songs that sometimes were so harsh in their fury that he and his brother had run to escape them. He tried to push the memory out of his mind. Their song made him both nauseous and joyful. _"Perhaps I am mad or feverish." _The thought nearly made him giggle as he stumbled to his feet. A chill swept through him.

"We could not hear them for much of the war." Thranduil noted that his friend trembled slightly. "You are cold? Grab a warm cloak for the trip."

"A ride in the sun should work wonders." Elrond focused fully on his friend. His heart already swelled with joy at anticipation of the forest's song. Thranduil handed him a cloak.

"Come then, we should give your stallion good ride before he ends up injuring one of the caretakers. I have never met such an ill-tempered beast. Do you hide such a personality as well?"

"Perhaps you should refrain from diplomatic missions." Elrond laughed.

Xxxxxxxxx

"I was surprised at your brother's choice." Mikeal admitted as he surveyed the small group of men gathered around their chosen leader. Elros had been their leader for years, not merely since some recent decree of the Valar. The joint council had recessed for lunch and Elros had taken the opportunity to gather the opinions from his people. "He seemed at ease with us. He served with you all through the war and taught and led our healers. All our people hold him in high regard."

"He was and is at ease among men." Elros sighed. "Things are not always what they seem. I would have asked him to remain with us but the Valar are far seeing. Perhaps they suspect that our descendants will need my brother's protection at some time far off."

"My heart tells me that it is your brother that needs our protection." Beleford interjected as he paused to swallow a bit of the thin stew. "I am not sure how elves view him."

"How so?" Elros sipped the chamomile tea. His stomach was uncharacteristically queasy from the stressful council session. "Certainly none would dare harm Gil-Galad's kin."

"King Gil-Galad will leave tomorrow to survey the villages."

"None would dare say anything in your presence but we have heard mutterings against him. Some are appalled that one with the blood of men would seek to rise above his heritage and claim the life of the eldar." Beleford paused wondering how much he should speak of his misgivings. He genuinely liked and respected Elrond.

"Oropher's sons will keep an eye out for him." Elros frowned as he took in his friend's unsettling opinion.

"Your brother is very perceptive. Do you think he can sense the undercurrent of resentment?"

"I think you overstate it. I do not think it is resentment. Perhaps it is more aptly described as fear - fear of the one who is so different. In the past, it was our ancestors who were the leaders when tragedy struck."

"Not through their own fault."

"In most cases, no. But to elves that lost all perhaps it is easier to put the blame on our unusual heritage. There are only a few elves who hold that opinion."

"It is a small minority but if I and my men have heard them, perhaps your brother has as well. Why else would one who usually rises before the dawn to take care of the sick and injured, now rise so wearily well past breakfast. Does he regret his choice?"

"No! Of course not." Elros began but then realized that Elrond had indeed seemed out of sorts recently. "Master Noenri said he is drained from years of working double shifts as both a healer and a warrior."

Xxxxxxxx

Erestor could not refrain from smiling slightly. The chanting and music that emanated from the tent seemed to swell through him, sending his fëa soaring.

"Noenri reminisced about the serenity of the Besain (bread giver) song. He once overheard the songs of Melian and Lúthien as they prepared lembas." Durgin smiled at the younger elf he had drawn guard duty with. They were fortunate to have such an appointment!

"It is beautiful. He certainly did not exaggerate." Erestor agreed then turned slightly, suddenly registering alarm. He was puzzled to see six of the brick masons approaching. Two were carrying a long wooden box between them.

"Halt." If it were possible, Durgin seemed to grow taller as he fell naturally into his guardian role. "State your business."

Xxxxxxx

"Did you bring your healing kit?" Thranduil inquired innocently.

"I thought this was to be a relaxing excursion!" Elrond looked back to the horses and smiled at Braigsûl's antics, which were annoying the other steeds.

"You are not well-versed in my brothers' games." Thranduil smiled deviously, which prompted Elrond's pure laughter.

"I have heard differently about their origin." Elrond breathed deeply of the fresh air as the low melodious hum of the trees' song washed over him.

"Ah, you are feeling better if you dare insult your host." Thranduil teased, the trees song also lifted his own spirits. They made straight for the tallest oak tree. "Are you ready yet?"

"We need a few more moments!" Andapher's voice was gleeful and a low buzzing sounded.

"What are they planning?" Elrond squinted, but could not see what they were working on. Thranduil smirked and called up.

"Elrond has just volunteered to be first!"

"Just to be clear on this. You agree not to hold us responsible for any injuries you might incur."

"You climb like one of the edain." Thranduil teased good-naturally. He had scrambled up the tree with ease, because he had experience locating the small indentations that his brothers had left behind. For Elrond it was slow going as it was nearly twenty feet to the first branch. Granted, the peredhel was doing well. He had wound a rope around the trunk and was slowly but steadily rising.

"Touché'" Elrond conceded. "I admit the sons of Oropher far exceed my abilities in climbing. This is a most formidable and majestic oak." He praised whole-heartedly as he finally pulled himself up to the first branch.

"_It is a pleasure to meet you, Elu-chil." _The tree whispered, enjoying the compliment.

"_The pleasure is mine. I treasure the gift of your song." _Elrond returned silently. Joy bubbled within him at the tree's deep baritone.

"Keep climbing!" Andapher called impatiently. "It is your turn." He gasped audibly as the peredhel gracefully ascended the remaining branches and soon stood beside them high up in the canopy.

"What is this game?" Elrond looked around in confusion. Andapher held out a thin bar that was connected to some sort of a ball type gear on a rope.

"Hold on tight and be sure to jump when Orodiun tells you too." Anaphor watched as Elrond reached up to grab the bar. Once he was sure the elf held it tightly, he pushed him off the branch. "Have a fun ride!" He snickered as Elrond screamed and whizzed down through the canopy at an amazing speed.

"Tell me that you tried it out already." Thranduil called.

"He should be fine as long as he lets go at Orodiun's signal." Anaphor laughed as he clipped a second device on the rope. "Would you like to go next?"

Xxxxxxxxxx

They were part way through a chant to Yavanna when Galadriel was horrified to recognize the clash of metal outside. She pushed aside her fear and looked for something that might fend off a sword. There was but a single iron trivet on the table.

"Move towards the hearth." She directed urgently as she grabbed the trivet and stepped forward. Indiriel stood closest to the entrance. Some of the ellith were still chanting. Others were stood momentarily shocked by the noise.

"Naneth!" Aurmîr screamed in horror as her mother pulled Indiriel forward. Two elves burst in. Their clothes were stained red and their eyes glinted with hate and fury. Screams erupted as the ellith scrambled frantically away.

"_Dear Elbereth protect us!" _Gellir prayed and grabbed her sobbing daughter. Aurmîr was still an elfling. This was her first initiation into the Yavannildi. _"Oropher, my love!"_

"Erestor!" Niphendriel gasped in worry, for her son had been one of the guards outside.

"The Queen." One pointed at Indiriel. The other advanced quickly with raised sword. He swung at the Queen, but his sword clashed against the iron trivet as Galadriel pushed her nephew's wife out of reach. A swift kick to the groin coincided with the collision of the iron trivet against the sword. The attacker doubled over in pain as his companion stepped over him to engage the warrior maiden. His blade flashed perilously close as she swept to the left, to draw him away from his fallen companion. Niphendriel used the opportunity to surge forward and slammed a pot down on the head of the fallen foe. Galadriel parried with the trivet, which looked ludicrous next to the sharp metal blade, but of course, she was unable to thrust or attack. A second later the sword caught her in a glancing blow to her left side, cutting through her dress like paper. Blood welled through the tear. _"Would that I had armor and a sword!" _She thought as she uttered aloud a curse in Quenya.

"Galadriel!" Niphendriel sent the vanquished foe's blood stained sword flying, pommel first towards the Noldo princess, who swept it up effortlessly, facing down her attacker with a sword in her right hand and the trivet in her left.

"Now the odds are more even." She announced boldly to the remaining attacker even as she prayed no more would step through the entrance. "Who dares to challenge Nerwen?"

"The Master sends us to destroy you." An unnatural, nay wild look passed over the elf's eyes and Galadriel realized that there would be no reasoning with him. His arm moved with a speed and agility that took her by surprise and she was barely able to meet his thrust. The force of the blow left little doubt that he intended to kill her and take as many other lives as possible.

"You will not get by me!" She thrust right and pivoted She met the next blow directly, although its strength sent pain riveting through her.

"Run!" She yelled, only now noting the ellith were rooted in shock behind her. Her attackers eyes flashed with hatred and anger as he unleashed a furious attack. He aimed blow after blow to her injured side. Her quick reflexes enabled her to deflect the blows but his greater strength forced her retreat towards the hearth.

"Time to join your brothers in Mandos!" He laughed madly, and she took the advantage of his momentary lapse to scored a blow with the long handled trivet. The elf staggered and screamed in rage.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"We are not at odds here." Finarfin reprimanded. "Please recall that we are here to work together for the common good."

"Galadriel!" Celeborn shouted and stumbled to his feet in shock at the barrage of images.

"Tarest! The Yavannildi are under attack!" Gil-Galad announced as he jumped up and darted for the door. Oropher, Finarfin and Celeborn were fast on his heels. Many others followed suit. They sprinted through the compound, calling for weapons, guards, and healers. Their destination was the spot where three of the elven compounds overlapped. It had been specially selected as a gathering point for the ellith. The cries for help did nothing to assuage the sickening dread that pooled in Ereinion's stomach. His wife's fear was nearly palpable through their bond.

"_Stay safe! Please be safe! We are nearly there!" _He sent the wordless message as the tent came into view. Elven bodies lay bloody and unmoving in a macabre scene that was horrifyingly reminiscent of other kinslayings.


	6. Chapter 6 Galadriel faces hostile foes

She probed his mind even as their swords rang against each other in a deadly cacophony. His eyes flashed with hatred but his mind screamed in anguish.

"Witch! Get out of my head!" He swung with fury, the blow jolted her yet further backwards.

"Why?" The one word was calm and measured as she focused on his mind. Images blurred, a single candle illuminating a horror chamber where blood ran in rivers along the floor. Dark chants filled the mind with a black haze of hopelessness. _"You live only to serve me." _The voice was intense and carried a power and tone reminiscent of the Valar's proclamation upon the first kinslaying.

"_Tears unnumbered ye shall shed; and the Valar will fence Valinor against you, and shut you out, so that not even the echo of your lamentation shall pass over the mountains."_ The horrible doom of Mandos burst to the surface and ironically severed her probe on the attacker's mind. She gasped as if emerging from a dank pool and spun, dropping the trivet to grasp the sword in two hands. The extra grip gave her the strength to firmly deflect the blow. He recovered quickly aiming another strike at her injured left side. She adjusted admirably and reviewed the strategies Finrod had taught her.

"_Look for an opening. Strike direct. An orc will give you no mercy. Do not think to give it…" _and there it was! She saw it as if in slow motion. His sword dropped lower as he sought to employ a common move meant to derobe the opponent. A snarl curled on his lips. In a flash her sword thrust direct through his midsection, dealing the mortal wound in but an instant. He faltered and sank, his weight driving the sword upward.

"_But he is an elf!" _ Her mind raged as her stomach roiled. His eyes opened wide in surprise and the black haze returned as their eyes met. _"The darkness is a trick of the enemy." _She pulled backwards, letting go of her sword as her adversary fell sideways.

"_There was no choice. His goal was to see you dead." _Finrod's voice echoed in her mind. Nearly out of reflex, she pulled an extra apron of the hook and folded it into a makeshift bandage. She pulled it around her torso and positioned it over the wound, drawing in a deep breath as she summoned the strength to pull it tightly and tie it. Screams and cries came from outside the tent and she steeled herself against the possibility that more of the enemy lay in wait.

"_Kinslayer!"_ The word rang unbidden in her head as the poison thoughts of her foe settled on her like a choking fog. _"All you touch shall come to ruin!" _

"_Galadriel!" _Another voice called, this voice so beloved. Quickly, she tossed a cloak around herself and bent to retrieve her sword, shuddering as she pulled it out of her expired adversary. The dead green eyes stared mockingly at her, as if willing her towards death and darkness.

"_It is but a trick of the enemy!" _She fought to remind herself, but the air around her seemed misty and suddenly she was aware of another, grimly clothed in black but so resplendent that she could do naught but recognize him. His eyes scanned their surrounding as his melodious, soothing call for the dead soul swirled around the enclosure. There was a stunned expression on his exquisite visage.

"Do many souls turn away from you, Lord Namo?" The words left Galadriel's lips before she had considered their consequences. The Vala turned in surprise, his eyes narrowing as he focused his gaze on the elleth, but he remained unsettlingly silent. "Is it true that Morgoth tortured elves, mutating them beyond recognition into the first orcs?"

"Granddaughter of Finwë, you best remember to breath, else it will be you that accompanies me home." She gasped in response and the Vala faded as the mist dissipated.

"_Galadriel!" _The voice held fear that verged on desperation. _"Galadriel, please answer."_ She focused on the bond she shared with Celeborn, stunned that it had slimmed to but a thin thread. It was long minutes before she could summon the strength to answer.

"_Celeborn? Where?" _The limited message was barely within her grasp.

"_The tent of the Besain is in view. I can see no enemies. But no one outside remains standing." _He returned, but she could not respond. Instead she pulled grabbed the sword and bolted outside, desperate for the warmth of the sun.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

"Hurry!" Gil-Galad needlessly announced. Bodies lay strewn in front of the tent. A single elleth now bent over one of the fallen. Her hands and cloak were ominously wet and dark, but she paid no heed to their approach as she focused on stemming the flow of blood.

"Galadriel!" Celeborn heart raced with fear that did not abate upon seeing his mate. Their connection was strained and silent. He could feel the ebbing of her spirit and he bent immediately beside her.

"Niphendriel's son." She whispered. The wound was deep and Celeborn immediately stood and yelled to the healers, who quickly came forward to help.

"Artanis, what happened?" Finarfin laid his hand on his daughter's head, his touch gifting her strength enough to respond.

"Exercise caution. Our attackers were agents of Morgoth, captured and tortured to submit to his will." Her voice was soft, calm, and devoid of all emotion. Voices swirled around her in response but she heeded them not.

"Erestor, do not heed the call of Mandos." She commanded suddenly and loudly, startling those around her. Her hand glowed white where she touched him. The other healers quickly followed up on her efforts to aid the sorely wounded elf. "You have a role yet to play in this land. Turn away from the light." Her voice commanded, even as the white light filled her own vision and Namo's eyes met hers.

'_It is not in your power to stop death." _The Vala's words sent a chill through her body. She was sure no one but herself and Erestor felt the Vala's presence.

"It is not his time, my Lord Namo." Galadriel defiantly returned as she focused her own life force towards Niphendriel's son. "His family needs him here." Her words startled Celeborn to action.

"Galadriel!" Celeborn grasped her hand from the young elf's chest, breaking the healing connection. He turned and brushed a kiss on her cheek, noting with dread the smoky sheen that dulled the normally bright azure eyes. Her head fell forward onto his shoulder as he ran his hands under the hastily fastened cloak. They passed over the makeshift bandage and for the first time, he noted the bloody sword at her side. He swept her effortless into his arms and surveyed the area now flooded with healing personnel. Who would he trust to help care for his wife's injuries? "Merwen, your assistance is required."

"My tent is closer." Finarfin's voice trembled slightly with trepidation. Celeborn nodded and hurried away.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

"Evil still lingers." Oropher surveyed the macabre scene.

"I feel it as well." Elros acknowledged. "If the Lady is correct, then the attackers were programmed by Morgoth." He stooped beside one of the fallen elves.

"But there are no one now able to identify the attackers." One of the healers puzzled aloud. Elros pushed all other thoughts from his mind as he focused on the wounded elf. Blackness, choking and inescapable, swept over him blotting out all vision and sound from the present. He recognized the deadly cold songs of the fallen Maiar and Vala. _"An excellent experiment! We can use their own minds against them."_ Harsh laughter shook his body as Elros fought to break the link with this foe. He reached out to the bright bond that tied him to his brother, focusing on the melody of Elrond's spirit.

"Elros!" Oropher shook him roughly. He choked, leaning sideways and vomited at the other elf's feet. Beleford moved to steady his friend and hand him a canteen of water.

"Move away from the masons! They are new weapons that were under development by Morgoth. They carry a blackness meant to infect the very soul and would induce us to die by our own hand." Elros yelled sharply.

"A weapon from the dark Vala! Are the Yavannildi at risk?" Finarfin startled visibly as he wordlessly directed his Seneschal, who jumped up quickly and hurried to catch up with Celeborn. Gil-Galad exchanged a glance with Finarfin and signaled his guard to follow him in search of the other ellith. Oropher fell in step with the Noldor King, his worry over his wife and daughter now multiplied.

"They are at risk." Elros trembled visibly as the blackness shimmered at the edge of his vision. The absence of the dark music augmented his aching spirit. The music, though horrible, had filled the open ache in his soul and he remembered yesterday's conversation with Elrond.

"_Wake up sleepy head." The short, dark haired peredhel gentle shook his brother._

"_Go away." The lump groaned._

"_It is past lunch sleepy head. Not that there was much food." Elros pulled his brother to a sitting position and handed him wrapped lembas. Food was in short supply. "I am going back to the council. You need to rest. I am sorry that I pushed you so hard."_

"_Nonsense, we both did our duty. We did what needed to be done. Without everyone working together – without the elves of Aman and those of __Beleriand__, Himring, Mithlond, and legions of men…" _

"_Without Adar fighting dragons in the sky." Elros added and they both nodded silently. _

"_The war would not have been won." Elrond's next whispered words seemed to drain life out of him. "And yet we will not see Adar again. I do not remember what he looks like." It was long minutes before Elrond broke the silence with a guilty whisper. "The world seems dimmer." _

"_How so?" Elros pulled his brother closer. _

"_Their music no longer rings in my soul."_

"_The Maiar song." Elros realized that he was what he also longed for. _

"_It was painful to hear at times. Mostly I could not understand it but" Elrond began. _

"_It was comforting." Elros finished._

"_It is too quiet now." Elrond was mortified that a tear escaped his eye. Elros pretended not to notice as he hugged his brother soundly._

"Elros?" The Peredhel did not respond, and his stormy eyes were clouded. Oropher turned to Glorfindel. "How does one counter this black disease?"

"Like a black wind or breath it appears to swirl outwards from the enemy. Perhaps it is Morgoth's attempt to concentrate fear, hopelessness and torment to break the spirit of his enemies as he could not do to Maedhros, Finrod, Beren, or Lúthien." Glorfindel mused and grabbed Elros by the arm. The reborn warrior was suddenly aglow with a brilliant light. "Elros leave those dark dreams behind and return to us." The Peredhel blinked dazedly.

"Thank you Glorfindel." Elros said softly.

"Come away from here. You should not have probed our enemies' thoughts."

"There was no other way to discern the danger." Elros followed the Vanya away from the scene. "There will be no chance to turn these assassins back to the light."

"Should we not treat them?" Isilmion one of Finarfin's healers, turned to inspect his team. Those healers bent over the masons were oddly still.

"Glorfindel, help move the healers away from our foes!" Aran Finarfin realized the danger. "Quickly, let us transport the fallen guards away from this menace."

"Erestor?" Elros cried in surprise to see his friend lifted and carried away on a stretcher. They moved the healers and others affected with the black menace away to Noenri's healing tents, as they were closest. Isilmion quickly took control as Gil-Galad's master healer was currently resting in the Vanyar's camp.

"We know how to treat wounds of the body. But how are we to treat this darkness of the spirit?" Isilmion puzzled then turned to Glorfindel who was standing with Elros. "In Aman, bee balm and kava kava are use to treat depression. Do you have such herbs here?"

"Kava kava is known to us, my Lord. Ginkgo is also used to bolster one's mood." The junior healer answered. "But we do not have a supply of either herb. A tea prepared from rosemary and sage can be used, although the tea is much less effective."

"Music, friendship, and love." Glorfindel muttered as his own focus on the remembered music from the gardens of Lorien lent him the strength to banish the dark thoughts.

"Music we can arrange for." Elros smiled with the hope that the music could fill the ache in his soul.

Xxxxxxxx

Thranduil doubled back towards the others, having ridden the aerial slide yet again. The sun had already passed overhead and was starting to sink lower in the sky. They would need to head back for dinner soon. His keen eyes spied a dark-haired elf bent against a young birch tree. The elf's forehead touched the branches and his shoulders were tensed as one experiencing pain. The trees joined together to weave a soothing lullaby, obviously in concern for the young elf.

"Elrond?" Thranduil called out in worry. "What is wrong?"

"Too quiet." Elrond's pain whisper did little to help Thranduil understand. But it was clear that his dear friend, who had at times treated his injuries and had gone out of his way to care for the House of Oropher after Rúmdir's death, needed him now.

"The trees song is deafening!" Thranduil exclaimed as he pulled his friend to sit beside him. Instinctively, he began to sing the traditional Doriath lay of spring and rebirth. The song drew his brothers near and soon Oropher's sons together wove a song of hope and strength and power. Tears streamed down all of their faces as the song came to an end. Thranduil was heartened to see that Elrond looked once again calm and collected.

"Elrond, are you well?" Little escaped Thranduil's probing gaze. "I for one am glad you chose to be counted among the elves. I know your decision has provoked much controversy but there are several Kings who also rejoiced that one of Elu Thingol's descendants will remain among us." Thranduil paused as he saw surprise surface in Elrond's eyes.

"It can not be easy being singled out." Andapher extended an arm to help the Peredhel to his feet. "My brothers and I are forever being blamed for any mishap."

"We have caused our fair share of mischief." Orodiun laughed. "Come, we best return before dinner, I do not wish to forgo a chance for a meal however meager." They gathered their belongings and headed back to the horses.

"Just a mouthful. It is quite precious these days." Orodiun passed around a small flask of Miruvor and they made ready to ride. Braigsûl crowded Elrond as if to stake his claim on the elf.

"That horse appears to have adopted an elfling." Thranduil could not resist teasing. Elrond shrugged and then praised his steed softly.

"I insist you see a healer when we return." Thranduil eyes flashed as he delivered the command.

"I am a healer." Elrond returned non-committally.

"You will talk to _another _healer." Thranduil whispered urgently as he boxed Elrond's ear. "Before dinner."

"Yes Adar." Elrond grinned.


	7. Chapter 7 Effects of the black breath

Ada … Ada …. Ada!" The elfling cried and rocked back and forth, clutching her Naneth's icy hands tightly. The elleth no longer appeared to respond to the elfling's wails. They had escaped the tent of the Yavannildi and were huddled together on a cot in the unfamiliar encampment.

"Gellir! Aurmîr!" Oropher enfolded his wife and youngest child in a tight hug. His daughter erupted into tears and loud sobs, while his wife stared straight ahead, strangely unaware of the presence of those around them. He tried to reach out with his mind. _"Gellir! Gellir, all is well. Come back to me!"_

"Look out for your daughter, while I assess the Lady's state, my Lord." The healer whispered.

"Shhh my treasure, Ada's here!" Oropher pulled his daughter fully into his arms, covering her brow with kisses even as he rubbed her back soothingly. "All is well, dear one. You are safe."

"Elves with swords." The child sniffled and gasped quietly, suddenly behaving half her age. She clutched at her Adar's tunic and buried her face against his shoulder and neck. It tore at his heart to see his beautiful half-grown daughter in such distress.

"Our warriors have taken care of them. They will not harm anyone again." Oropher promised.

"The White Lady?" The elfling sobbed, horrified by the thought of their savior dead. "She fought them. Blood! ….She was bleeding."

"Lady Galadriel is well." He lied as he tried to push his cousin Celeborn's anxious eyes from his mind. "The healers are fixing her hurts now. She will be fine in no time."

"Nana?" She wailed again.

"How was Naneth hurt? Help us understand so we can help her." Oropher whispered soothingly against Aurmîr's golden hair.

"They wanted to hurt Queen Indiriel. Naneth pulled her away and Lady Galadriel blocked their sword with a kitchen iron. They shouted for us to run." She trembled then shrieked. "Ada! There he is! Do not let him hurt me!" Oropher jumped up and scanned the room. But there were only the healers and the ellyth.

"Aurmîr, there is no one here who would hurt you." Oropher picked up his screeching daughter. "Come let us sit in the sunshine."

"That is a wise suggestion." The healer motioned to his colleagues

XXXX

"Hail Oropherion!" The guard greeted the returning noble sons. "Your Adar sent word to join him immediately in the square in front of Aran Finarfin's pavilion." The sun had long since passed over them and was now meandering its way down towards the horizon.

"Is there a problem?" Andapher gasped, always the most volatile of Oropher's sons.

"Nothing to be spoken of in the open." The guard warned although his face betrayed no sign of worry. "We will care for your horses."

"Elrond?" Thranduil nudged his friend slightly. The Peredhel dismounted but appeared dazed and weary. "Will your steed acquiesce to another's care?" In response, Elrond whispered and gently stroked behind the stallion's ears. The horse nuzzled his elf's other hand in obvious concern

"Thank you Braigsûl." Thranduil caught the mumbled words. "Yes, I think he will be fine. Shall we head to see your Adar?"

"No, you are going to talk to the healers." Thranduil ordered. "Then you will meet us for dinner. Do not be late. Once they clear away the food there is no way to convince them to open their cupboards."

"You best believe him elfling!" Orodiun teased. "He has argued with the cooks on several occasions. I must say that the current rations are not enough for a grown elf." Elrond blinked in confusion and Thranduil grabbed his shoulder, pulling him nearly eye to eye.

"You will visit the healers and then come meet us for dinner." There was an extra almost hypnotic quality to his voice and the guards stepped back to break the spell.

"Healers then dinner." Elrond repeated mesmerized then turned and walked deliberately towards the nearest healing tents, which happened to be the elven healers allied under Gil-Galad. The Peredhel had spent most of the war leading and teaching the healers of the Edain, although he occasionally traveled to Gil-Galad's camp to confer with the King's Master Healer. He noted with some chagrin that the healing tents were strangely lacking in healers. Only a few anxious voices were audible.

"The Teleri's wound has reopened. I can not staunch the bleeding." The silver haired elleth's voice trembled.

"Where is Master Mornur?" The other apprentice asked.

"I can not find him!" The young elf's voice rose in anxiety.

"Who is bleeding? What type of wound is it?" Elrond interrupted. The two apprentices turned and gaped at him in surprise. "Who is the Master healer on duty today?"

"Master Mornur is on duty, but we have not seen him for several hours. There was an attack and a large number of healers were called to attend to the injured."

"Take me to the patient." Elrond said to the elleth then turned to the ellon. "Try to locate the healer."

Xxxxxxxxx

"What could have happened?" Orodiun worried as he and his brothers hurried towards Finarfin's encampment. Their worry waxed when they were detoured away from the lembas preparation area that was situated between the camps.

"This way Oropherion." One of the guards directed them past the security checkpoint.

"Since when is security required within the camp?" Thranduil asked.

"Since assassins programmed by Morgoth sought to eradicate the Yavannildi." The brothers turned to see Finarfin's seneschal. "Your Naneth and sister were not physically wounded. But they need your care."

"What!" Andapher exclaimed, but the regal Noldo motioned for quiet as he led them forward.

"Speak softly Oropherion. Many were unsettled by this attack and it seems that in the darkness Morgoth has wroth a new weapon, designed to inflict despair upon the mind. I think your Adar could use your help in calming your sister." They meandered around blankets spread out in the open square. Distraught elves were being calmed and soothed by their kin. The soft singing and chanting carried melodies of hope and joy.

"Naneth! Adar!" They cried together.

"Ion-nin" Oropher looked weary beyond words. Their Naneth leaned against him, her straw colored head resting wearily on his shoulder. Their sister was curled asleep in his lap, a sight not seen in a decade. "I was counting on your return." Thranduil bent and ran his hand over his sister's forehead. Her skin was heated and her dreams were obviously disturbed.

"Thranduil, your skills are more developed than those of your brothers. Can you guard your sister's dreams, while I rest and focus on your Naneth?"

"Of course, Adar." Thranduil sat and readied himself to receive his sister.

"I am fine." Gellir protested although her cloudy eyes spoke volumes in opposition to her words.

"Humor me, my Love." Oropher transferred his sleeping daughter into her brother's awaiting arms. Then he pulled his wife onto his lap and kissed her brow. Her checks redden at this public display for they had always been a private couple.

"What is this weapon of Morgoth?"

"Finarfin believes it is a mind weapon. It instills fear much like when a fallen Maiar, dragon or balrog comes near, but it is more intense, perhaps because it has a Vala's power behind it."

"You suffer from this too, Naneth?" Andapher sat next to his parents and grabbed his Mother's hand.

"Do not fear, your Adar called me back from the dark dreams." She mustered a weak smile. "But my mind is more developed – more protected than my little 'mir'." She focused on the golden head now tucked against Thranduil's chest.

"But your Naneth was far closer to these foes."

"Not so close." She protested.

"She helped to pull the Queen out of danger."

"It was Galadriel and Niphendriel who saved us all." She disagreed.

"It was the combined quick action by the three of you."

"Niphendriel? Is she all right? And Calimdriel?" Orodiun gasped in worry.

"Your future Mother in law is one brave Lady." Oropher announced. "Apparently, Galadriel blocked the first sword blow with an iron trivet and dealt the attacker with a swift kick to the groin. His companion was fast on his heels and while he was trying to dispatch the Lady of Light, Niphendriel wielded a pot to finish off the first foe and threw his sword to Galadriel. Your Naneth and Niphendriel stewarded the ellith out of the tent."

"It is over, Naneth." Andapher repeated as he squeezed his Mother's hand. Tears ran down her cheeks and she had begun to tremble ever so slightly during the retelling of their ordeal.

"You are safe, beloved. All will be well." Oropher focused soothing thoughts towards his wife. The brothers exchanged worried looks as their Adar and Naneth shared their thoughts in private. Orodiun stood and surveyed the area.

"I do not see Calimdriel." He noted in worry.

"She is in the healing tents in Finarfin's camp." Oropher whispered. "You should go to her."

"She was injured?"

"Not physically, though she and her Naneth were exposed to this darkness. But her brother was one of the two guards outside the tent."

"Erestor!" Andapher gasped.

"He and Durgin were badly wounded. But of the six attackers only two made it inside." Oropher stopped at his wife's sob. Around them healers were carrying steaming trays. "Orodiun, bring us all a calming tea, before you go in search of your betrothed."

Xxxxxxxxx

"I found the Master healer." The ellon's voice held warning and fear. A moment later Mornur burst into the tent.

"Who are you? What business do you have touching my patient!" The healer snarled and advanced on Elrond. The weary Peredhel was washing his hand. The smock he wore was streaked with blood from the surgery.

"You patient would be dead had I not operated." Elrond said evenly. The apprentices openly quailed at Mornur's tone.

"Elfling!" Snarled Mornur as he threw a spectacularly off-target punch. "You are not qualified to operate nor speak in such tones to me. I was a healer in Doriath before your parents were even a thought." The two young apprentices stood cowering at the tent's entrance.

"Apparently you are not qualified." Elrond interjected. Mornur raised his fist to throw another punch but Elrond caught his hand. Silver eyes flashed with anger. The drunken healer let out a cry of surprise and sobered as a burning pain passed momentarily through him.

"It is you who will be reprimanded. I can smell the alcohol on your breath. As the Master healer on duty you are not allowed to leave the premises, not to mention the trouble you are in for imbibing alcohol while on duty. Your patient was hemorrhaging and would have bleed to death had I not operated."

"You have no authority over me!" Mornur yelled. Elrond seemed to grow in stature and fixed the healer with a stare that looked remarkably like King Elu Thingol.

"I am well within my rights as a healer and as one of Aran Gil-Galad's house. You will sit down quietly here and wait for one of the Master Healers to judge you." Mornur jaw fell open slightly at the Peredhel's tone. For a moment there was silence before the drunken elf nodded and sat obediently. Elrond stepped over to the two apprentices, who stood gaping at him in awe.

"My Lord." They stuttered. Elrond turned to the elleth.

"Nimbrethil, find one of the other Master Healers and inform them of what has happened. Tell them that there are only apprentices on duty. They will come immediately."

"Yes, my Lord." Nimbrethil bowed and quickly departed.

"We best see that no other patients are in distress. What is your name?"

"I am Calellas, It is an honor to meet you, my Lord."

"Will you accompany me?"

"Of course, my Lord." Calellas said

XXXXX

"Forgive me, Master Beteg." Mornur bowed his head in shame.

"Forgive you? You have endangered the lives of many by your careless disregard for our rules."

"There were ample healers here when I left!" Mornur's eyes flashed belligerently.

"You were the Master healer on record. There was an emergency and many were called away to aid the wounded. If coincidence had not brought the young Lord to us, you would have been responsible for several deaths!" Beteg threw his hands up in exasperation, as he waved to the guards to collect the drunken healer. "Then to threaten one who is both a skilled healer and a noble Lord! I will leave judgment to our King Gil-Galad!" Beteg looked up as his trusted right hand entered.

"Meridel, what news?"

"We have completed rounds and are watching two difficult cases closely."

"And Elrond? Surely, he came here for a reason? The King ordered him to rest away from healing duties."

"He is weary and I sense a deep hurt. I hurried him away to see if he could make the last ration serving." Meridel eyes mirrored his concern, but he could not seem to give words to his intuition.

"You feel it is not the same as what plagues Master Noenri and the others who toiled too long." Beteg guessed correctly.

"I told him that you would visit him later tonight."

Xxxxxxxxx

"Please excuse me." Manveru immediately straightened as he saw his King emerge from the tent. He quickly walked to greet him and to apprise him of the current situation. "How does your daughter fare?" Aran Finarfin's face was unreadable.

_"One does not just imagine seeing the Lord of Mandos?_ _Did one?" _Finarfin mused as he tried to push his worries aside. He drew in a deep calming breath. No, he could not discuss the tense hours of surgery or his own fear that she had lost too much blood.

"She is stable for now." He acknowledged as he clapped his seneschal's arm. "How are the others?"

"We have gathered most of the elves affected by this darkness in the square." Manveru waved his arms to indicate the crowd. His King appeared to only now perceive the gathered throng.

"The two guards?" Worry painted Finarfin's face. His daughter obviously cared for one of the guards, the unfamiliar name burst into his head. "Erestor?"

"The healers were still operating on both guards." Manveru informed him, shuddering slightly at the memory of the gristly scene. It could have been much worse, had not the guards been able to hold off four of the six attackers.

"It could have been much worse." Finarfin agreed with his Seneschal's unspoken words. "Never let any denigrate my great grandson's guard."

Xxxxxxxxxx

"He has lost a great deal of blood." The ancient healer spoke soothingly in high Quenya. It took Niphendriel a few moments to comprehend the statement and several more to formulate her question in the foreign tongue.

"But he will live?" She grasped her daughter's hand tightly. Orodiun moved to put is arms around both of them.

"He came through a very difficult surgery and we must watch him carefully tonight." The healer sought to mitigate the fear that surfaced in these _dark _elves eyes. They were so different than the elves of Aman yet no less brave. "I believe he will have the strength to live. We should know for certain tomorrow. My staff is arranging for cots and chairs by his bed. Your presence is likely to be of great comfort and aid to him."

"Thank you." She whispered through the tears that were pouring down her cheeks. Her heart knew then that her son would live. Calimdriel embraced her Mother as both trembled in relief. Orodiun guided them back into the waiting chair.

"Thank you." He mouthed to the healer, who inclined his head in acknowledgement.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"No, we have put away the food for the evening. You are just trying to finagle more than your share!" One of the cooks irately yelled at a dark haired elf. "Everyone knows that they must come during the meal hour or else they forfeit the meal."

"We have just lit the bonfire, Sire." Manveru followed his King's gaze to see a young elf, clearly of Noldor decent and of nobility by his dress, gape silently at the cooking staff.

"It is your own fault! Next time you will take better care!" The worker huffed in dismissal, then turned to clear the tables with his partner. The dark haired elf shuffled back a few feet before crouching wearily to the ground, obviously bewildered.

"Manveru, please bring some lembas?" Aran Finarfin ordered as he turned to approach the seated elf.

"Earendilion are you well?" Finarfin bent so he could more carefully observe the youth. Exhaustion and confusion dimmed the silver eyes.

"My Lord?" Elrond replied as he squinted. "Have we met?"

"I have spoken many times with your brother, but no, we have not yet had the pleasure." Finarfin helped the weary healer to his feet.

"Aran Finarfin?" Elrond reddened in embarrassment. Elrond would have bowed but Finarfin held him firmly. The staff gaped at the amazing sight of a King assisting the young elf.

"We heard you were pressed into service in the healing tents."

"I only did what was needed." Elrond shrugged nonchalantly.

"Perhaps you might aid us in singing songs to lift the spirits of those who were exposed to what Lord Glorfindel has named the black breath. But first you must have some nourishment. There is Lord Manveru with lembas now."

"My Lord." Elrond turned clearly confused by the King's description of the black breath.

"Lord Elrond Earendilion." Manveru bowed before the young elf as he banished a smile at the astonished faces of their onlookers. His King had deftly elevated Elrond with the simple gesture. The Seneschal presented Elrond with the wrapped waybread.

"Thank you, you are too kind." Elrond managed to stutter.

"Open and eat before you fall over." Finarfin directed as he guided the young elf to the bonfire. Elrond munched gratefully on lembas and soon found himself ensconced among Finarfin's councilors, seated in the place of honor next to the Noldor King.

"Lord Elros!" Finarfin called. "We have retrieved something of yours."

"Aran Finarfin," Elros bowed politely. He was puzzled by the teasing tone until he spied the beloved face. "Elrond! I checked the healing tents for you. Master Beteg told me what transpired."

"I only filled in as the situation required." Elrond willed calmness towards his brother.

"He was more than disrespectful. They said he tried to hit you."

"No need to overreact. I am more than capable of dodging a swing from a drunken elf." Elrond grimaced slightly and whispered. He could feel Elros' agitation and sought to defuse the situation. "What transpired? I heard there was an attack this afternoon and something about bad breath. Where was the attack?" Finarfin and Elros exchanged a long glance.

"Black breath." Elros corrected, smiling in spite of his agitated state. He took his brother's hands in his own. "Indiriel and the other Yavannildi are well, though they were shaken up." Elrond went white and felt both his brother and the King sending healing energy towards him.

"The Yavannildi!" Elrond stuttered in shock as his brother and King filled in the details in whispered voices, until a commotion interrupted their story.

"Ah, the musicians have arrived." Finarfin announced. Indeed they came with harps, flute, lute and drums. The soothing music soon filled the air with the lilting voices of seated harp player and two standing singers intertwining in a playful melody. After a few soothing lullabies the harpist stood and bowed to Aran Finarfin. The King rose and moved to stand near the bonfire. A handful of ancient elves rose to join him.

"Herutaurë (The Lord of the Forest)." Elrond whispered to Elros. The ancient elf nodded slightly as if in confirmation of Elrond's words. Then a beautiful chant, an ancient song of power, swelled around them, beating back the despair, fear and darkness that plagued so many present. Indeed, though night had already fallen, the whirling song provided its own brilliant light. As if in a trance the sons of Earendil rose as one and joined hands with Finarfin and the Forest Lord. Their matching tenors augmented the music adding the healing song of their Maiar heritage. The wind swirled around, dancing joyfully to ancient songs of renewal, healing and hope. Its golden glow touched the very faer of all who listened and banishing the blackness from the corners and crevices where it sought to emit its poison. Slowly, the song diminished in intensity and the chanting grew fainter until at last, the song ended. Others rushed forward to aid the exhausted singers back to their seats and healers quickly passed around restoratives, for songs of power consume much strength from the singer.

"Ion-nin!" Indiriel embraced Elrond as Ereinion kissed Elros on the brow. They nearly carried their foster sons to their seats. Elrond succumbed quickly to exhaustion and dozed in Indiriel's arms. Elros leaned heavily on Ereinion and was barely able to get a few words out, though he did glare back at the dark haired harpist, who seemed to send either angry or anguished glares at Elrond and him.

"Rest, ion-nin." Ereinion soothed as he stroked Elros' hair. It was mere moments before Elros too, succumbed to exhaustion. "You have given everyone a great gift with your song."

"They both have inherited healing gifts from Melian?" Finarfin sipped a second glass of Miruvor. He too was tired beyond exhaustion.

"So it appears." Ereinion smiled slightly at the sight of his two grown sons sleeping like elflings.

"Come, my King." Lord Manveru offered a hand. "Your bed awaits."


	8. Chapter 8 Mysteries deepen

"Elrond? Elros?" Gil-Galad called softly. It appeared that neither peredhil was yet awake. Not surprising since dawn was only now blooming across the horizon. The healer and Lord of the Forest accompanied the young High King into his foster sons' tent. They darted soundlessly for Elrond's cot on the far side of the enclosure. The peredhel murmured incoherently in his sleep. A fine sheen of perspiration covered his forehead. Master Beteg bent to take Elrond's pulse while Gil-Galad focused on pushing his son into a deep healing trance.

"His heart races!" Master Beteg mumbled in surprise as he continued his examination. "Sire, how long have you noted these symptoms?"

"For at least several weeks." Ereinion paused a moment to regain his bearings. The King was exhausted from the night's efforts of keeping the dark dreams away from his beloved. "I guarded his sleep on the last few nights of our journey and was able to push him into a healing trance on two occasions. He seemed to improve the next morning but now it seems those efforts proved but temporary."

"Herutaurë," Beteg bowed in deference. "I have not detected these types of disruptions to the fëa before. Can you offer any insight?" The ancient elf Lord bent forward to assess the sleeping peredhel.

"What are you doing?" Elros' shout made them jump. Suspicion and fear rang clear in his voice. "Leave my brother alone!" He stalked towards them.

"Peace Elros." Gil-Galad noted the dagger that glinted in Elros' hand. He motioned for the others to back away from Elrond and held up his hands in peace. "It is I, Ereinion. All is well."

"Move away from him." Elros ordered, shaking in rage. "I will not let you hurt him." Implicit in the tone was his agony at having failed his brother before. Gil-Galad motioned the others to retreat well away from Elrond and moved in between them and Elros all the while speaking soothingly to the startled peredhel.

"Elros, your brother is fine, only sleeping." Gil-Galad approached cautiously as Elros squatted protectively near his brother's head to assess him.

"He does not wake for me!" Anger now edged the unsettled voice.

"I was worried for him and pushed him into a healing trance." Ereinion said softly. "He will wake near noon." The hand holding the danger dropped suddenly, much too near Elrond for Gil-Galad's comfort.

"Elros, put down the knife." Though softly spoken, Ereinion's command was clear.

"You are taking him from me." Elros eyes flashed. "He should be coming with me!"

"Elros it was your brother's choice."

"Choice!" Elros laughed bitterly. "He is not safe here. He would be safe with me."

"Neither of you are going anywhere for a long while." Ereinion groped for a different tactic. "You are both unwell. Let us help you."

"Who are they?" Elros motioned with his dagger to the other two.

"I am Master Beteg, I treated your brother many years ago at Hovaspind, when he was injured during a retreat." The healer did his best at this distance to assess Elros' state of mind.

"We sang songs of healing, songs of power last night." The ancient elf Lord reminded him gently. Elros shivered at the memory of the music - music that had tantalizingly soothed the aches of his soul, however, briefly. Gil-Galad took advantage of the distraction to swiftly disarm Elros.

"Peace, Elros. It is I, Ereinion. You know I would never do anything to harm you or Elrond." Elros looked at the others with a mixture of confusion and ill-suppressed anger.

"Who are they? Why does Elrond not awaken?" He asked again suspiciously as if he had not understood the prior conversation.

"He was pressed into healing duties yesterday and I thought that he would recover faster with extra rest. You know how stubborn he is. Maybe rest would do you good as well." Ereinion frowned slightly when he saw Elros stiffen and step away towards the door.

"Why is it so quiet here?" Elros brow furled in confusion.

"What do you wish to hear? The trees? The sea?" Gil-Galad was not quite successful at masking his worry.

"Elrond." Elros paused.

"Do not worry. Elrond will awake refreshed at lunch. Let us help you, Penneth." Ereinion caught his foster son in a powerful gaze. "Share with us what it is that troubles you. We can not aid you if we do not know what is wrong." Elros stiffened at Gil-Galad's words.

"You can not aid us." He choked as he rubbed his chest and stepped towards the door.

"You are unwell. Do not leave alone. Can we summon Beleford or Glorfindel to accompany you?" The King reasoned but Elros darted out the door. The Lord of the Forest stayed the King with a gentle touch on the arm. Gil-Galad met the powerful eyes squarely, their ancient wisdom lending him strength.

"Take care of this son. I will see the other is well-protected." The low baritone was deceptively soft its understated power. Ereinion bowed slightly in deference to the ancient being. Across the way a dark elf, cloaked in a dark green mantel also bowed to the two kings. This clandestine guardian wordlessly acknowledged the order to protect the departing peredhel.

"My King." Master Beteg whispered. Gil-Galad turned to find the healer bent over Elrond. "I mean no disrespect to your sons but."

"You have a diagnosis?" Gil-Galad eyes narrowed.

"If I were to take their symptoms together, as if they were one patient instead of two." The master healer's voice trembled slightly as if he feared the King's reaction.

"Your professional opinion."

"But for the deep wounds of the fëa, I would say their symptoms are consistent with one who is addicted to poppy syrup and suffers from withdrawal." Gil-Galad closed his mouth tightly to prevent himself from gasping in disbelief.

"Could such an addictive draught inflict wounds to the fëa?" The deep timber rumbled behind Gil-Galad.

"No," Beteg admitted. "I am at a loss to explain that."

"And these scissions to the fëa? Are they potentially mortal?"

"In time, I fear it will prove so Herutaurë." Beteg eyes glistened slightly. He had grown to like the gangly adolescent who had emerged into a quietly self-assured young adult.

"You believe his brother suffers from a similar ailment?"

"Yes, though perhaps it is not quite as advanced."

"I think it is equally advanced." Gil-Galad updated them on the disquiet that emanated strongly from Elros over the week's council session. "I had not guessed its origin, though it was puzzling."

Xxxxxxxxx

"Once Mithlond is stable and settled we will send out scouts to map the topography of these new lands." Oropher brought the discussion to a close. "The Sindar will seek forest homes. This I promise."

Most of the others exited the tent even his brothers but Thranduil remained in hopes of finally having a chance to speak to his father alone. There was not much privacy in the camp and instincts told him that privacy was important for the delicate discussion.

"Adar, Naneth wishes to depart for the beach. She prepared a picnic."

"An afternoon on the beach will do us all good. You left Aurmîr?"

"Last night's songs were a balm to her spirit. She seemed much improved, though Orophin promised not to leave her side."

"The songs were a balm to all." Oropher turned to study his son. "But you have worries yet unvoiced?"

"Perhaps we can speak of them as we walk." Thranduil motioned in the direction of the beach. "I wish to speak of the peredhil. I fear something is amiss."

XXXX

"We could probe his mind in an effort to discern the origin of this illness."

"Tis a breech of trust." Gil-Galad flatly rejected this course of action. "What ever its cause it is not yet life threatening. Elrond has always been completely honest with us. I would not breech his trust unless there was no alternative. This is not some addiction to a healing draught."

"How can you be so sure?" The Forest Lord probed.

"I know Elrond very well. The source of this ailment must be something that neither of the peredhil can comprehend." He paused considering the other explanations. "Alternatively, perhaps it is a problem that they can not find a solution for. Indiriel and I will seek answers once he awakens."

XXXXX

The bright winter sun cheered the spirits of Oropher's family even as the gentle swish of the waves calmed their hearts.

"An excellent afternoon." Oropher whispered in his wife's ear and drew her back into his arms. Their small picnic somehow seemed extravagant, punctuated as it was with laughter.

"They are enjoying themselves, are they not?" Gellir turned her head sideways to catch her husband's cheek with her lips. Their four offspring were forging sandcastles together. At times, one or another would sport suspiciously wet eyes, for special memories would surface of Rúmdir's teasing over sandcastle contests in years past.

"He would have loved this." Gellir whispered as tears of both joy and sadness slid down her cheek.

"Elros!" Thranduil waved at the passing figure. Silver eyes, anguished yet powerful gazed back without recognition. The peredhel blinked stupidly and looked out towards the sea, his pace too fast for leisure. Thranduil exchanged a pointed look with his father. A forest elf followed silently behind the peredhel. Before long others approached and called out.

"Have you seen Elros?" Lord Glorfindel was slightly out of breath. The man with him looked concerned.

"You will need to run to catch him." Thranduil pointed at the now distant figure.

"Thank you!" Glorfindel called as he and Beleford began to jog.

"You remember something? You have observed this before?" Thranduil crouched next to his father.

Xxxxxxxxx

"_Lúthien, are you well?" Oropher called out in worry as he dropped to his knees next to his prone friend. He could all but feel the pain that suffused her visage and forced tense twitches from her body. He deftly slid his arms underneath her and quickly rose, intent on getting her to her parents as fast as possible. He had traverse but several dozen steps when Melian hurried over to them. _

"_Sell-nin." She called aloud as Oropher delivered his friends into her Naneth's arms. Then Melian began to sing. Light and song wove a comforting net around them. Oropher was nearly too frightened to breath as he watched his friend's pained features. But gradually her Mother's song gave comfort and soothed away the pain. Lúthien settled into a peaceful sleep. "Come Oropher."_

"_My Lady?" The young elf rose in confusion and followed his queen. The beautiful Maia was much stronger than she looked and easily cradled her grown daughter in her arms as they crossed from the gardens into the castle. No one that they encountered appeared to notice them and they passed through the busy outer chambers unimpeded. Even the guards at the entrance to the family wing seemed oblivious to their passage and the grand doors swung open of their own accord. Oropher halted at the entrance to Lúthien's room and watched silently as Melian settled her sleeping daughter into bed. The enchanting Queen bent to lovingly kiss her daughter's forehead and stroke the dark silky hair._

"_Sleep sell-nin (my daughter)." A brilliant light seemed to pass between the two. _

"Did Dior also experience this?"

"Little love I had for Dior, for I was plagued by dreams of our tragic end." Oropher sighed. "He was charismatic and wise but brash and headstrong much like young Elros. The four years that he rule Doriath were ones of great turmoil for me from the very moment he and Nimloth arrived and revealed the Silmaril set upon that accursed Nauglamir to the horrible slaughter that ended the kingdom. But he could not have made any other decision. One can not negotiate with mad men."

"But Elros has matured."

"Yes and now that I am a Adar five times over, I understand that this brashness was more a sign of his youth than any sign of darkness. The jewel was his connection with his parents. Its allure and song was rich and melodious. It was only natural that the grieving son should treasure it. Alas, Dior Eluchil had no time to mature. He was but thirty-six when he perished, too young to have come into his heritage as a child of the Maiar, bearing a quarter of Maiar blood. "

"He was not even an adult by the count of elves!" Thranduil gasped.

"But an adult by the count of men and by all other measures. He matured quickly according to the count of men, maybe because he was truly half-man unlike Elrond or Elros. Perhaps it is Elros who most resembles his grandfather." Oropher paused for a moment as he considered elves that might have some knowledge of Lúthien's adolescence. Queen Melian was a great healer and kept her daughter's illness private. The list was very short as short as the list of elves that might have the to ability contact a Maia. "Find Cirdan. He may be able to help."


	9. Chapter 9 Kin of the Maiar?

_Panting heavily, she pivoted and thrust her sword into the heart of the dark creature. The burning red eyes brightened for a moment before dulling. _

"_How long do you think you can continue to fight?" The dark voice chilled her to the bone, though no words had left the slit of the creature's mouth. It's malice and amusement at her predicament were palpable. _

"_As long as it takes." She hissed in return. Her eyes flashed in defiance. "You are not real. You have no dominion over me." She pulled the blade back forth. Steam burst from the black form as it shimmered and vaporized into a gray mist that swelled and encompassed everything in a dark fog. _

"_Where are you, my love? Where is my silver light? Am I to be forever trapped in this endless battle?" Her hands clutched the silken fabric of her dress. It was an exquisite and expensive weave from Aman. She laughed bitterly. In her dreams, she was engulfed in the suffocating court fashions that she had discarded at every opportunity for the comfort and freedom of her brother's worn tunic and leggings. _

XXXXX

"No change?" Finarfin bent to kiss his daughter's golden head. His heart nearly halted in shock, for her pale features had a translucent quality that marked the fading. Celeborn was seated next to her, her hand grasped firmly in his.

"Forgive me Sire, I am at a loss of how to treat this black breath." The ancient healer bowed. His eyes were sorrowful.

"It is beyond any here." Finarfin's brow furled in question, as his son-in-law still offered no greeting. The noble head was bowed. A curtain of silver hair obscured his face. "Celeborn?"

"He tries to reach her through their bond and no longer responds to the outside world."

"How long?" Finarfin focused his love on his daughter willing his strength towards her. _"Would that I could take your place!"_

"Nearly two hours already." The healer pulled a chair up for his King. "I fear we come to the closing stages. The next few hours will determine the outcome." Finarfin's eyes were glassy with unshed tears. He held them back at great cost.

_"Please, Elbereth, grant my daughter the strength to emerge victorious over this foe." _He recited prayers that his wife and he had prayed together over this last age - prayers to the One and to the Valar to protect their children. Now, it was a pleading prayer to protect this last precious child. Bitter was the realization that prayer was the only way left to him to help his dearest daughter.

XXXXXX

"King Gil-Galad, Queen Indiriel." Merwen bowed at their entrance.

"How is he?"

"His spirit seems tranquil now. The healing sleep appears to have soothed his soul, though the scissions to the fëa remain. Forgive me for questioning your judgment Sire." Master Beteg commented.

"I would be surprised if you had not. I am no master healer."

"You have training in healing." Beteg interjected.

"True. But I believe these symptoms are somehow tied to his mixed heritage. I received a message from Lord Oropher that supports this supposition." Gil-Galad revealed as he watched his wife bend next to the sleeping figure.

"Elrond ion-nin, it is time to wake up." She gently caressed his cheek. Silver eyes opened, their glow much more clear than the previous day.

"Indiriel? Ereinion?" Elrond stuttered in surprise, as he quickly sat up and tugged the blankets up modestly over his sleeping clothes.

"Ah, the extra sleep has done you well." Gil-Galad pulled another chair over, smiling at the embarrassed blush that crept over the beloved peredhel's features.

"Forgive me, have I overslept and missed something?" Elrond mumbled, looking down.

"No ion-nin, you have missed nothing. We are heartened that you have recovered some of your strength. But we need to ask you some questions to understand the source of your illness."

"Please, forgive my weariness. Do not worry. Master Noenri said it stemmed from years of overexertion in the healing halls. I should be fine in a few weeks." A deeper hue suffused the pale cheeks as he realized that healer Beteg and the Lord of the Forest were also present. He mumbled in embarrassment. "I am sorry if I caused you worry."

"Ion-nin" Indiriel sat down on the cot and stroked his hair. "You are a gift from Eru and are so very precious to us." Tears escaped the silver eyes as he automatically shook his head in opposition to her words. "Yes, you are very precious to us." She kissed his cheek and pulled him closer as Ereinion sat down beside them.

"A Lord of Doriath suggested that there is more to your weariness than meets the eye. He knew your ancestors and described an illness that one of them suffered."

"From Doriath?" Elrond puzzled. "Who?"

"They would remain anonymous but have guided your brother to seek care from Cirdan."

"Elros?" Alarm now infused the young voice as he began to reach out to his brother through their special bond. But Ereinion shook him firmly.

"Elrond, if it is what he described, Elros is in good hands. We need you to keep up your strength and be more open with us about your symptoms and feelings." Elrond gaped at the King for a moment before shyly looking around at the other faces present.

"There is no reason to keep your feelings secret."

"It sounds crazy even to me." Shame flickered in the silver eyes and he mumbled. "Perhaps we are mongrels that do not belong with any kindred."

"Do not denigrate the elf that we love nor let the words of the ignorant color your opinion of yourself." Ereinion chided as he and Indiriel embraced Elrond together.

"Elros will sail and I will be alone." A lone tear slipped down the pale cheek.

"You will never be alone." Indiriel kissed him. "Do you not know how we love you?"

XXXX

_She was visiting her Grandmother in Alqualondë, a trip proposed by her Mother, primarily for the purpose of keeping her away from her Uncle and his rebellious sons. Much to her Grandfather __Olwë's dismay, said Uncle __arrived only a week later with his sons and a large number of Noldor loyal to him. __Olwë must have been blessed with slight foresight, for he cloistered his wife and many of the ellith in the palace gardens, quite remote from where they were meeting with the __Fëanorians__. Before long, s__creams and crashes rang over the beautiful Swan haven, audible even in the garden. _

"_We must help!" She declared vehemently. The guards held them back. It took much convincing before they were able to enter the palace and assist the healers. Each time the door opened more wounded were brought in. _

"_Can you spar some guards to help transport the wounded?" One of the fishermen suddenly turned warrior had drawn the head healer aside. _

"_I can come." She stepped forward. _

"_My Lady, it is not safe." _

"_For you either." She nodded and hurried out in front of him. "Is there no sign of my cousins?" Nothing in her brief life had prepared her for the horror that lay outside those pearl doors. _

XXXXXX

"Lord Glorfindel!" Orodiun hurried forward. The Avari guard from the forest and the reborn warrior consulted in hushed voices. Behind them he could see the back of the Edain, who sat with his arm around Elros.

"Orodiun?" Glorfindel looked up in surprise.

"My Adar provides some council on the peredhel's .." Orodiun paused not wanting to use the word illness least it cause affront. He settled on another term as he handed Glorfindel his father's letter. "On Elros' current state."

"Advice would be much appreciated." Glorfindel sighed as he and the Avari sentry proceeded to read the missile. Gasps of surprise escaped them more than once.

"If your Adar is correct, we must find one of the Maiar to help him." Glorfindel exclaimed. Beleford looked over at them. Elros sat tense and rigid beside him.

"Thranduil will bring Lord Cirdan by boat." Orodiun informed them. The young Sindar was visibly shaken at the sight of his friend in such a dazed and pained state. "There is a dock a half a league from here. Will he be able to walk? Can we make our way there?"

"He walked all this way trying to escape the pain. I think we can coax him a bit further."

"The chant of awakening." The stoic and usually silent Avari suggested. Glorfindel nodded. Orodiun and Beleford lent Elros silent support while their two ancient companions sang an ancient melody that rejoiced in Eru's gift of life. Slowly and steadily they made their way to the distant pier. Indeed, it wasn't long before they spied the double masts of a small schooner.

"Cirdan travels in such a small ship?" A tremor of fear permeated Orodiun's voice.

"The flag at the mast bears his coat of arms." Glorfindel noted that the Avari stepped protectively up to the young Sindar. "It is one of their smaller ships. But many were destroyed in the upheaval."

"Fear not, we forest dwellers have no need to travel on the sea." The low melodious voice reassured him. "I trust the Vanya can safely transport the peredhel to Cirdan's care."

"I would also accompany my King." Beleford gripped Elros' shoulder.

"Then it is settled." Glorfindel bowed slightly to Orodiun and the Avari. "I thank you for your aid. Beleford and I will see Elros safely aboard Cirdan's vessel."

"My Elbereth watch over your search for Ulmo's servants. You are brave indeed to court the ire of Ossë and Uinen."

"I hope we will not raise their ire." Glorfindel and Beleford guided Elros into the small rowboat. Once they had pushed away from the pier and were out of earshot, Orodiun turned to the elf, who had once taught him the ways of the forest.

"Will they arouse the Maiar's anger?"

"It is said that Ulmo and his servants often summon Cirdan to speak with them. Yet I have never heard the mariner speak of initiating such contact.

Xxxxxxxx

"_Elbereth, please spare him." Blood spurted over her hands and onto her dress as she fumbled with the torn fabric to fashion a makeshift bandage. Her kin fought each other. How could she choose sides? How could she not? These innocents were her Mother's people._

"_He will die as will you." The sword was poised at her neck. She remembered her brazen words and bit her tongue, but they haunted her still. The enraged Noldo dealt a killing blow to the Teleri she was tending. "It is your fault. You caused his death." _

"_I did not act in time to prevent it." Her words from an age ago flooded over her lips but this time the Noldo did not drop his sword. This time she looked up into the dark visage of her tormentor. Beyond him she caught a flash of silver hair. Her enemy raised his sword for the killing blow. But she called upon her inner strength and a sword materialized in her hand. Their swords crashed together as his laughter faltered._

"_You wielded no sword at __Alqualondë__." _

"_This is not __Alqualondë__. These are my memories, I control this battlefield!" She parried his thrust and swung left, ducking slightly before surging forward. Two, three strokes were blocked before her sword severed his black visage from his mantle. Steam thickened into a fog and further into a thick mist. Figures with swords darted through the mist. She knew the events of that first kinslaying. For they had plagued her dreams for an age. She had witnessed the end of the battle and aided the injured. Tears slid unbidden down her cheeks. She had failed to foresee the terrible event that set Fëanor and his sons on their fateful path. Now, she was trapped in this hell, forever doomed to fight this dark foe on the battlefield of her own memories. The sword fell limply from her hand as she waited for the scene to change, for the next battle to appear. _

"_Galadriel! Beloved!" Silver sparkled in her vision. _

"_You were not there." She closed her eyes against the disappointment. _

"_But I am here now." Firm arms embraced her and kisses dotted her forehead as a gentle hand brushed the tears from her cheeks. "Can you not feel the strength of our bond?" _

"_I failed them. Now I too am a Kinslayer like those forsaken ones." Unspoken was her heart's belief, now augmented by the black breath, that she was unworthy of his love._

"_You take too much upon yourself. You were not a Kinslayer then and you saved many with your swift response and defense." His love flared warmly through their bond. Pushing away the darkness. "You have defeated him. These dark dreams are his last efforts to subdue you. Yet, you the light of my life, my Galadriel, you have won. Come home to me." His lips had substance even in a dream. Their touch sent a fire of desire coursing through her. _

"_I am lost my Silver Tree." She whispered to his mind. "I can not find my way back. Ever is there a new darkness and another battle with this evil." _

"_Follow my love. Can you not feel it surround us?" _

Xxxxxxxx

"Elros it is Cirdan. Can you hear me?" He stooped over the huddled peredhel and gently stroked the dark hair as he hummed ancient songs. Silver eyes were glazed with pain and longing. "Elros do not fear. It is the remnants of your Maiar blood. It seems to be the way of their development." He soothed in between his repetition of the one verse he could clearly recall. He was no bard. The flashing silver eyes so resembled Elwë's daughter.

"Surely, Lord Ulmo will summon his Maiar to sing for you. It will calm the burning of your blood for the Maiar song." Cirdan said calmly, though the seas tossed the boat wildly. His shipmates hid fearfully inside. Only Glorfindel and Beleford remained on deck.

"Nowë why do you dare interrupt?" Ossë emerged from the frothing water, assuming an imposing form, his amazingly muscled upper body unclothed. A wicked gleam sparkled in the black eyes. "The Valar sit in judgment of Morgoth and his minions. Lord Ulmo can not attend you."

"Your kin has need of you." Cirdan stated simply. Beleford stepped behind Glorfindel, obviously frightened by the tales of the wild Maia's stormy moods. Stories handed down by the elves told that the willful Maiar had followed Melkor early after Arda's making but had eventually rejected the dark Vala. In contrast, Cirdan was well acquainted with the sea Lord's sarcastic humor.

"Eonwë?" Ossë eyes flashed strangely.

"No, Melian's descendents." Cirdan bowed slightly.

"They are not my kin. They are of your people." Ossë stated insistently. "It is your duty to care for them now."

"I know of no elf or man who suffers from the absence of the Maiar songs. Melian is your kin as are her descendents. You cannot discard them so easily. Especially since the Herald of the Valar declared their tasks so openly." Cirdan's audacity took the Maia by surprise.

"I know not how the blood of the three kindreds could coexist in a single being." Ossë bristled slightly. "We can only assume it was the Father's will that led to their existence." The Maia swept towards the huddled figure. His approach elicited an anguished cry from Elros.

"You are hurting him."

"Life in your lands is full of pain." Ossë returned but in a flick of his hand Elros seemed to stiffen, his cry frozen on his unmoving lips.

"You would cause pain to one of your own?" Glorfindel spoke for the first time. The Maia turned on the Vanya.

"Are we not courageous, twice born?" Ossë gaze was powerful but Glorfindel did not flinch.

"I will defend the peredhil with my life. What are Balrogs but fallen Maiar?" Glorfindel smiled and cocked his head. The Maia stood silently for a moment before breaking into laughter.

"I am duly chastised. My wife and I will evaluate any injury to the peredhel." Ossë agreed and in response a whirlpool rose into a funnel at the side of the ship. Seconds later, Uinen solidified and stepped onto the deck. The Ainur exchanged a long glance, their unspoken words not audible to elven ears. Yet their presence affected Elros and teardrops fell slowly down his cheeks, gradually building into a steady stream.

"Your charge does appear to hear the songs of the Ainur." Uinen gasped as her husband traced the peredhel's temple with his hand.

"Forgive us, young one. We have injured you over the course of this long war with our battle cries." Ossë held out his hand and Elros seemed to communicate without words, for the light in his eyes changed. The elves and man watched in astonishment as Ossë and Elros stepped off the boat and were seemly swallowed by the wild waves. Uinen turned towards the gaping spectators.

"We will return him to you soon." She said, although her lips never moved.

"Maiar do not live separated from their kind, cut off from the song." Cirdan stated knowingly.

"He will hear the song on Númenor. Eonwë will travel with him."

"What of his brother Elrond?" Cirdan asked.

"His brother is also affected?" Uinen considered the consequences.

"He is no mariner, unlike his father or Elros. I doubt he would seek out the sea to find healing."

"He will go to the forest." Uinen acknowledged. "We shall send aid."

"But he will be separated from his brother and from the Maiar."

"The song of the Ainur is interwoven in the earth in the trees in the forest creatures. Someone will teach him how to listen for it."


	10. Chapter 10 Together we can recover

Her spirit was waning with each passing hour. Somehow, Finarfin could sense his daughter's fight against the black breath. The battle seemed to wax and wane and wax again, slowly but steadily sapping her energy and life. Tears leaked from the King's azure eyes as his heart acknowledged the probability of losing his only daughter.

"It is obvious that they draw strength from each other. May we ease Artanis over slight so Celeborn can lie beside her?" The healer proposed gently.

"A good suggestion." Finarfin choked out. They gently slid Artanis sideways, mindful of her injured side. Then they guided the insensate form of Celeborn to rest beside his beloved wife. Finarfin would never forget the next tense, tortuous hours he sat praying and watching over the pair, nor his tears of thanksgiving and joy when he recognized the pale light engulf them, marking the moment of reconnection of their strong marital bond and the onset of a shared healing sleep.

"Elbereth be praised!" The healer exclaimed in awe as he and Manveru entered. The healer had expected to find a further decline in the gold and silver couple. Finarfin's seneschal was equally worried about his Lord and friend. "They have fought off this insidious foe together!" Finarfin was too overcome with emotion to reply, the tear tracks still wet on his cheeks.

"Let us chant together the prayer of thanksgiving." Manveru whispered as he grasped Aran Finarfin's hand. The three elves knelt and chanted thanksgiving and praise in choked, hushed voices.

Xxxxxxxxx

"How long will they keep him?" Beleford's voice wavered slightly. He held the Maiar bound to Lord Ulmo in fear and awe.

"I think they will summon us when it is time." Cirdan was puzzled for they had waited several hours and there was no sign of the peredhel.

"We can not just leave him." Glorfindel protested.

"I see little choice." Cirdan rubbed at his beard. "We need to get back to coordinate the other fishing boats, otherwise our people will have a meager fare tonight. Fear not, Lord Ulmo and Ossë often summon me. I surmise they will return Elros when they see fit."

"The people will riot. Some already think the Valar have abandoned us to starve." Beleford predicted darkly.

"Gil-Galad assured me that he is sending as much food as he is able. Elves are making due with much less."

"Elves can survive on less. But continual hunger leads to dissent and worse. Elros divulged that the lack of food was beginning to pit elf against elf. It is no different among men. Worse even - as we cannot go as long without sustenance. Already the people question why Elros spends as much time as he does among the elves."

"You were with him. You attended the council sessions to plan for the planting season and negotiate equitable division of the food supply."

"I am not expressing my own opinion, merely stating the fears among our people. Now that Elros has disappeared, fear will multiply."

"I will bring him to your settlement as soon as he returns." Cirdan promised.

Xxxxxxxxx

"We are grateful for your aid." Lady Gellir bowed politely to the ancient Queen of the Avari. "I thank you again for your people's mentoring of my sons in the ways of the forest." The young elfling at Gellir's side eyes widened with the hope that she would someday be able to visit with the Avari.

"Finarfin and Gil-Galad have informed us of the dire need for lembas. We would do everything possible to prevent any elf from suffering from starvation. We are all one family. We are all children of Eru." The Avari queen tried not to laugh at the gaping elfling.

"May I present my daughter Aurmîr." Gellir smiled as her daughter executed a perfect curtsy.

"Please to meet you." The child scampered shyly.

"My daughter Lillanlai has accompanied us as well. Would you like to meet her?" The Queen spoke directly to the golden haired child, who nodded enthusiastically. "Lillanlai?"

"Yes Naneth?" The Lady Lillanlai politely greeted the stunned elfling. Her beguiling emerald eyes had seen many centuries. Yet still she was but a child to her parents millennia. During this long war most Avari had not dared to bring a child into the world. Aurmîr, now just half grown, was quite a curiosity. This exquisite child of Oropher would spur many of the woods to beget elflings of their own.

"Aurmîr, this is my daughter Lillanlai." The Queen smiled at the elfling's amazement. "Lillanlai this is Aurmîr, Lady Gellir and Lord Oropher's daughter."

"Delighted to meet you Lady Aurmîr." Lillanlai made a sweeping curtsy as the child giggled endearingly. "Would you give me the honor of becoming my baking partner? We have a very important job this day. Many hungry elves await our lembas."

Xxxxxxxxxx

Dark, cold and suffocating anguish – that was the fate that his heart struggled to defy. She could feel his spirit struggling and knew that her presence was balm in this weary battle against the black breath. Yesterday, she had scolded his friend for sharing his strength with her injured son, for the weary, beleagured peredhel looked physically ill. But whatever he had shared did seem to spark dear Erestor's own healing powers.

"Has he stirred my Lady?" The Vanya Lord startled her from her thoughts. "Forgive me Niphendriel, I did not mean to surprise you.

"Glorfindel!" She embraced him tightly as if his spirit would light inspiration in her own. "You have returned. Are your charges well?"

"We delivered Elros to the Maiar of the sea. If anyone can help him, it would be them."

"And Elrond? He looked most unwell when he visited."

"Visited here?"

"Yesterday for a brief time. Aran Gil-Galad called him away."

"They went to seek respite among the Avari."

"He said that Erestor was improving and would awaken soon."

"Was that his professional opinion?" Glorfindel smiled.

"It differed from what the healer here voiced and yet they were happily surprised with Erestor's condition this morning."

"Most curious." Glorfindel and Niphendriel exchanged knowing glances. "The King would keep Elrond away from healing duties for the next yen to give his fea time to heal properly."

"That is wise." Niphendriel sighed. "The quieter of the sons of Earendil puts others well fare far ahead of his own. He has little understanding of his own worth. It worries me at times. I like to remember his joy and naivety when he visited us on Balar. He, Erestor, and Calimdriel enjoyed the simple pleasures of the beach and long dinners and pleasant conversations under the stars."

"I pray this victory now makes those simple pleasures again possible." Glorfindel pulled his friend into a comforting embrace.

"_SSSSSS,"_ Erestor hissed as eyes fluttered opening momentarily then closed tightly again from the sharp, bright reality. Gradually, they adjusted and he met the familiar green eyes. "Naneth," he choked out hoarsely. Glorfindel quickly procured a glass of water.

"Ion-nin." She smiled and lifted his head slightly with one hand as she guided a glass to his lips with the other. "Small sips dear heart."

Xxxxxxxx

"Elros!" Beleford's voice rang out in joy and many followed him to see their future King. "Are you well? When did you return?"

"Only a few hours ago. It is good to see you my friend. Cirdan told me about your loyalty and steadfastness. I thank you for looking after me during," He paused wondering how to explain.

"Your illness." Beleford finished for him. "But you are well now? We were all praying for you."

"I am well." Elros smiled, realizing that illness was no longer something he needed to hide, for among men it was common. Beleford later admitted that he had explained Elros' absence as a vague flu like illness that the Maiar would cure.

"This calls for a night of celebration!" Some added joyfully. There was quick agreement among the folk who had settled near the Gulf of Lhûn.

"I do not want to squander our small supply of food." Elros protested.

"The Lords of the sea smiled upon us. The nets were full today." Riand joyfully announced to the cheering populace.

"First I would hear of the progress towards a planting schedule. Then I would not turn down a hearty meal. My ghost-like healers were not interested in food like _we men_ require. They served rather paltry meals." Many laughed at the comparison.

Xxxxxxxx

"Exhale slowly." His Avari teacher chanted slowly. "You have communed much with the trees. Thank them and bade them farewell for a time." The mental exertion furled his young charges' brow, on which beads of perspiration gathered in spite of the cool temperatures.

"Child, reach out with your mind to greet the creatures that roam the underbrush." Time flowed slowly on. The teacher carefully monitored his charge carefully, noting when slight tremors shook Elrond's body. A deep voice startled them both as the noble Avari King bent and grasped the peredhel's shoulders.

"Enough for now. Leave this exercise behind. Focus again on the song of the trees. Do you hear their call? Can you feel their concern?" The warmth and power of the elder elf engulfed him, drawing him back to the present.

"I am sorry my Lord. I can not hear it." The depth of disappointment and defeat in the young voice concerned the Avari King.

"Nonsense young one. Mediation takes practice." The deep comforting voice seemed to speak directly to his spirit.

"I can not focus. Not like you described."

"Each spirit is unique." The King watched in surprise as a tear trickled down the youth's cheek. "You may not experience it in the same way we do, for we do not hear the Maiar's song as you do. But the song of Arda underscores all life and encompasses everything around us, for the Valar wove the music that bound together and created Arda. Its untamed joy - fierce, deep and stormy echoes through Eä, though now the noisy, wild songs of life's present forms obscure its mellifluous remnants. In this song is woven the music of the Maiar as well. Be patient. You must wait for the music to speak with your soul. Healing and strength will flow from it."

"What if I can not?" The shy question was laden with too many fears.

"We will guide and care for you. Healers can not heal themselves." The Forest Lord chided. "You must put aside your pride and feelings of inadequacy. Let us care for you. You have been injured. Such injuries surely hamper your senses. It is not a sign of weakness. It is an injury no different from an arrow wound suffered in battle. None would call the brave warrior weak because he had suffered such a wound. With time and patience you too will mend. Time is what we eldar have in abundance."

Xxxxxxxx

"Where is Elrond?" Elros urgently inquired as he approached the High King.

"Where are you manners?" The High King reproached gently, earning an embarrassed grin.

"How are you my most noble Sire Gil-Galad?" Elros bowed exaggeratedly.

"We are well Lord Elros. The Queen is much recovered from her encounter. A visit among the forest dwellers did us both well. We thank you for your inquiry. We were glad you agreed with Cirdan and went first to visit with your people. They were very worried about their future King. " Gil-Galad returned in his perfected Kingly voice, although his eyes held mirth.

"Where is Elrond? They would not update me on his recovery. Their vague comments led me to believe that they are not mentoring him as they have done for me."

"Elros, come let us talk more privately. Indiriel and I have only just returned. Are you well?" Ereinion put his arm around his foster son and led him into the tent.

"Elros!" The Queen's eyes lit radiantly as she pulled the stunned peredhel into a hug. "You are well! Cirdan sent word that the Maiar healed you."

"They inflicted the damage. It was fitting that they repair it." Elros mumbled against the curtain of silver hair.

"They did not know. They did it unwittingly." Her eyes glinted with love and joy as she guided the wild dark hair behind his ear. "You are well!"

"My spirit has healed. They taught me to listen specifically for Ossë and Uinen's songs. Eventually Eonwë will return and travel with us to Númenor." Elros' eyes flashed with excitement.

"You will be part of a Kingdom of Men. Free from the Eldar." Ereinion's words held no emotion but he exchanged sorrowful glance with Indiriel. The coming parting would be bittersweet. They loved Elros dearly. Ereinion had cherished contact with the second born, for their differences were to be celebrated. Elros was oblivious to their wordless conversation, so caught up was he in his experiences among the Maiar.

"Ossë is wild and rash." Elros shook his head as if to ward away an unpleasant memory. "I would not wish to incur his wrath. His wife is steadfast and methodical, her fire but slowly awaken but unerring once her mind is set."

"An odd couple," Indiriel lips curved wryly. "Strange to associate our incarnate leanings and emotions with these angel like spirits."

"There are some things that we have in common but in other manners these spirits that helped the Valar shape the world are so foreign to be nearly incomprehensible. I consider myself to be a good judge of character. But it is beyond me to say whether the essence of the Maiar I encountered were benevolent or callous. Their perception," he paused unable to put his thoughts into words. "The Maiar are linked by the songs – their spirits gain strength and peace from their connection to each other. Previously, I had thought their songs were only for war, terrible yet beautiful. But their songs express a gamut of emotion and thought, like our own speech."

"You can understand this speech?" Indiriel blurted our in surprise.

"Only snippets. Perhaps ten percent of what is said. It seemed little enough to me, yet they were astounded that I could hear it at all, given how dilute our Maiar ancestry is. They who present themselves as so much above us had little understanding of us. Yet they knew enough to put a choice to us. If they do not understand what a peredhel is, how can they be so sure that our destinies lie apart? Why should elves and men be separated? I sometimes believe that despite all their powers they know little more than we do. And it scares me."

"They too are trying to live lives that Eru would approve of." Indiriel exchanged a long glance with her husband.

"But they too have made errors and mistakes, much larger than ours given their might." Elros frowned.

"Then give thanks to Elbereth that our potency is less, and focus on building on those traits and liberties that you cherish to form a society that prizes justice, freedom and peace." Ereinion chided. "The war is ended. We have wrenched back control over our own lives now."

"And Elrond? The Maiar said they would not teach him as they taught me." Elros was heartened when he saw Ereinion stiffen.

"It was a point of contention for us when we accompanied Elrond to the forest." Indiriel intervened. "They did send one of Yavanna's attendants to help care for Elrond, but she stayed mere minutes. I too found her manner uncharitable."

"Callous even. Her assessment was that his death was not imminent." Ereinion amended. "But perhaps as you say it is a cultural difference. She charged the Avari to instruct your brother in techniques of listening to the remnants of the Ainur."

"She did not heal him!" Elros was livid.

"We pressed the issue too." Indiriel ran her fingers soothingly through the short dark hair. It had taken Ereinion days to calm down. "The only comment was that Elrond would live his life with little contact with the Maiar. It was decided that they should not interfere."

"More likely they were afraid of causing him further harm." Elros scoffed.

"We can not see all ends." Indiriel's strong faith in the Valar had given her the strength to persevere during the darker hours of her life. "Perhaps it simply reflects the needs of others. Many people depend on you to succor and guide them. You have not the time for a long convalescence. Yet among the Eldar, Elrond is counted as one of the youngest, having just passed the cusp into adulthood. He has not your duties and obligations. There is no reason he should not heal slowly and naturally."

"You are saying that I should envy him? I should not begrudge him this time?" Elros nearly laughed. "I doubt Elrond would agree with you. Would not one always chose the more expedient draught? Why prolong suffering? Does healing differ whether the process is slow or fast?"

"The Avari can tutor him in their ways and teach him the mysteries of the forest." Ereinion pointed out even as he silently thanked his wife for diffusing Elros' anger. "Few have such an opportunity."

"The forests are still unsafe."

"The Avari King is one of the elves who awoke in Cuivienen. He is wise and trustworthy. He has guaranteed your brother's safety and sends us regularly dispatches about his well-being." Ereinion soothed.

"How long will he stay among them?"

"The healing process is slow as there is also the fatigue from the war and the added burden of his long healing duties. We are brainstorming ways to keep him away from healing for a number of years. His fea will need time to heal and you both need time a respite from the trials and tribulations of war. But there are already small signs of recovery."

"How long?" Elros asked quietly.

"Perhaps a turn of the seasons," Ereinion paused at Elros' obvious dismay. "You have many duties for the upcoming planting season as well as settlement plans. When Elrond returns, you will undoubtedly be able to impress him with a rudimentary village."

"And ample food." Elros smiled at the thought. Ereinion poured them both a small glass of wine.

"To ample food and a cozy roof over our heads."

"My people will build our settlement much faster than yours!" Elros teased. Ereinion groaned and rubbed at his temples.

"Too many cooks." Elros laughed at the elven king quoting the old edain adage.

"Your cooks are so entrenched in their ways that you might never reach an accord!"

"I hesitate to employ the weight of my office when a council should allow everyone to speak freely. But it may indeed come to that!"


	11. Chapter 11 Perspectives

"The land can not support so many people!"

"Returning home should be our first priority!" There was a general uproar as many of those gathered Noldor from the West agreed. Finarfin had called a meeting of his top advisors and councilors to investigate the reports of incidents and outright animosity between the Noldor under his command and the peoples of middle earth.

"Did we not set out from Aman to help our kin here?" Finarfin rose and called for order. "It has come to my attention that many of our people are actively placing the construction of ships above securing these camps and fields, planting, fishing, and hunting. This is not what we agreed upon. What good is our return voyage if we leave those we came to aid to die of starvation?"

"Aranya?" Tarwatirno the King's chief healer spoke. "Would they not be better served by returning with us to Aman? Morgoth has been vanquished, but danger still lurks in these lands."

"Many of our Kin will choose to return with us." The King paused to banish his own sorrow at his next observation. "But some of our loved ones will chose to remain here. Many elves, like the Avari and Sindar have known no other home."

"They would willingly embrace such danger? The Valar have decreed that they can return."

"This land is wild, dangerous, and untamed." Lord Alacosir observed, "But I believe now that the war is over it's full beauty will emerge."

"My King" His Seneschal Manveru whispered. "The healers sent word that your son-in-law shows signs of waking." Finarfin rose and the council fell immediately silent.

"My daughter is among those who will remain." The King disregarded the gasps. Rumors of the Noldor princess' brave feat had spread like wildfire through the camps. Many would happily welcome the headstrong princess home. "I would do everything in my power to leave these lands in a position where their people can enjoy peace and prosperity."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

"Has he reached his majority? He seems so young.'' Lillanlai covered the rhizome her Mother had just planted with dirt.

"He is barely over fifty." The Noldor of Aman would be shocked by the Avari Queen's current enterprise. Her family had for ages nurtured and cared for the land.

"That is of age for an elf or one of the Edain but for a Maiar? I heard Adar say his suffering was partially due to his Maiar heritage." A small shake of her head was enough to convey her doubt.

"What is spoken in confidence should not be repeated. The young elf has spent most of his life at war and has born much prejudice. It is only natural that he is apprehensive around strangers and less at ease in social situations, especially since few of our people have made any overtures of friendship."

"But is he not a prince? He does not act like one."

"He shouldered too much responsibility during the war. His spirit suffered deep wounds. Such suffering is bound to make one seem younger than their years. I remember much torturous days of whining after a nameless elleth broke several broken bones." Her daughter cringed slightly.

"He seems so unsure of himself, almost lost and vulnerable. Yet the aura around him is foreign, a light and song apart from elves."

"He is of the elves." Her Mother chided. "We should celebrate our differences, yet it is safer to remain where all are the same. How would you feel being singled out? Our people come just to view him out of curiosity, but are afraid to speak with him. If he was not self-conscious of his heritage before, he certainly is now. Have you even spoken with him?"

"No." She admitted quietly. Her eyes focused squarely on her task of covering and compacting the dirt over the next hole.

"Your Adar is disappointed that you would not deign to speak to the last descendent of his brother Elu. It has not gone unnoticed that only your Adar and I and the healer have spoken with him." "

"Kalmë guards him." Lillanlai corrected.

"Kalmë is nearly as old as your father and speaks only at great need. Elrond has been among us for almost a week now. Are you not ashamed of our people? He is Elu's heir. The last of his descendants to remain among the elves."

"What can he share with Aran Elu Thingol? He is so far removed. Surely, there is little of that blood line in him."

Xxxxxxxxxx

Celeborn slept, reveling in the blissfully restored connection to his beloved spouse. He tried to keep his anxiety hidden. _"So close. Much too close - I might have lost her!" _

"Ion-nin." A voice reverberated through him. It did not sound like his Adar, yet it held unconditional love and acceptance. "Come back to the light. It is time to awaken." Slowly, gradually, his body responded to the gentle but insistent call. Familiar blue eyes surrounded by a curtain of golden hair appeared, but the face was not that of his wife.

"Aran Finarfin," He choked in surprise and struggled to sit up, but the world spun dreadfully and hands roughen by long years of war gently guided him back to the pillow.

"Easy now, _ion-nin_." The name was repeated with love and respect. "You have slept long, perhaps in a shared healing sleep, and it has done you both much good. But I think your body is in need of sustenance." He positioned pillows to raise Celeborn's head, and then guided a warm cup of tea generously sweetened with honey into unsteady hands.

"Thank you." Celeborn whispered after several sips.

"No thanks are necessary. I was deeply humbled by the depth of your love for my daughter. I would be most honored if you also called me Adar."

"Galadriel!" He turned to swiftly to see if his beloved was well. She rested motionless beside him, deep in healing sleep.

"Do not fear. The worst is passed. The healers predict she will make a full albeit slow recovery. I doubt the next few weeks will be easy. Artanis was never one to endure confinement well." Finarfin smiled at the choked cough his daughter's husband emitted in agreement. "Finish the tea and perhaps you will feel well enough to join me at the table for a small repast." Celeborn complied and slowly drank the sweetened brew. Energy spread through him as his stomach protested against the lack of solid food. He endured a thorough check of his state of health from Master Tarwatirno before the Healer and King helped him to the nearby table.

"You have been in healing sleep for nearly two days. Come replenish your strength. Some stew will do you good." The healer motioned to the table where an assistant had just placed several steaming bowls. Celeborn hesitated as he turned back to where his wife lay.

"She has regained some color." He grasped her hand momentarily. It was thankfully warm.

"It would seem that the two of you have staved off the effects of the black breath." Tarwatirno observed. "Your Lady no longer fades and grows stronger with each passing hour."

"It was her bravery. Its effects were uncanny as it seemed to interweave this dark foe into her own memories, changing the battle to other times and places."

"You aided her."

"I would give my life for hers. But I know not how I assisted her in this fight. It seems as if I merely provided a connection to reality. I know not how we overcame this darkness."

"You must tell us what you remember. Perhaps it will help us to aid others."

Xxxxxxxx

"Why do you lurk in the shadows, son of Earendil?" Kalmë laughed

"I," He paused not willing to share his uncertainty of whether or not he was welcome.

"She noticed your presence awhile ago. Were you not welcome, you would have known it well before now." Kalmë pushed him gently forward towards the princess.

"Lady Lillanlai." Elrond began hesitantly. "May I join you?"

"How polite. Of course you may join me, _Lord_ Elrond." Lillanlai laughed at the blush of embarrassment that spread over the young Peredhel's cheeks. "Have you never whittled wood before?"

"No I have not. It is fascinating to watch the piece take shape. What kind of bird will it be?"

"The wood calls out to me. I think I will fashion a copper Nightingale. It seems the tree sheltered a pair years ago and longs for their return."

"I knew several children who would have delighted in such a figurine."

"Knew?"

"They are all grown now."

"You are barely passed your majority. How could any child you knew be grown already?"

"They are of the Edain." Elrond murmured an apology at the fear that rose in the elf maiden's eye upon mention of the other kindred. "There is naught to fear. In some ways they are much like us."

"Like you perhaps." She quickly regained her poise.

"Perhaps so." He conceded. "Perhaps my perspectives are skewed by my mixed blood. But still I think there are similarities between Elves and Men. I beg your pardon if my opinion displeases you." Silver eyes looked awkwardly away as the silence stretched out.

"Perhaps my own perceptions are distorted because our people have only ever observed the edain that allied themselves with Morgoth. They desecrated our forests and drove us from our ancestral homes."

"Were many hurt?" Lillanlai recognized genuine concern in the disturbingly bright silver eyes.

"We were fortunate that the casualties were few." She smiled inwardly at the youth's insecurity. "I thought I heard the soft song of a harp last night."

"It was I. I hope it did not disturb you my Lady."

"Nay, nothing of the sort. I quite enjoyed it. Maybe we can strike a deal." Her eyes lit mischievously.

"What do you propose, my Lady?"

"Perhaps you could instruct me on the harp in exchange for some wood working lessons." She watched a smile of relief spread across the youth's noble face.

"That would be most agreeable."

Xxxxxxxxxx

"If we are blessed with rain, we should have an ample harvest in the summer and fall, enough to feed our people and send extra to the elves." Beleford squeezed his wife's hand. They had both put in long hours to coordinate large numbers of workers with the goal of preparing many fields for the month's first planting.

"You have all done a tremendous job. I think you impressed even the elves with your efficiency!" Elros declared much to the joy of his people.

"Our efforts can only be declared a success, if no child complains of hunger this winter." Selina's eyes flashed purposely. Elros noted the silver strands glistening in her chestnut hair. He and Beleford were the same age, fifty-seven and his wife was several years younger than them.

"Will your brother visit soon? Can I send him a list of healing supplies? We are running short." Halverad had worked with Elrond in the village healing house a number of years before. His wife Analise had a crush on the peredhel throughout her girlhood. At her father's urging, Elros had several lengthy talks with Analise about his brother. She had long since outgrown her infatuation. The young couple had just become parents. Beleford was a grandfather. Bergil, Beleford's son now shadowed his father like an apprentice learning his father's responsibilities and council politics.

"Elrond is enjoying a well-earned convalescence among the Avari. I was planning on visiting him for a few days next month to see how he is doing."

"And make sure that the elves are treating him well!" Selina had been righteously angry when she had heard that female elves were wary of interacting with Elrond because of his peredhel heritage.

"Be assured I will do all within my power to make sure they treat my brother with respect."

"But the chances of you witnessing your brother's marriage before we sail." Selina began but Elros interrupted her.

"Are the same as the chances of me marrying anyone before we set out for Númenor. Absolutely zero!" He grinned as Beleford affectionately tousled his hair.

"And I thought we were the same age. I will be lucky to live long enough to see you married, hopefully not long after we arrive in Númenor."

"I trust you will stand with me at my wedding. You are as a brother to me."

"But I will look like your grandfather if you wait that long!"

Xxxxxxxxx

"_Make no sound. Let us test the watchfulness of your Adar's guard." _His amusement rang clearly in her mind as he lifted her as gently as a feather. Her head immediately fell against his muscular arm as he carefully positioned her legs over his other arm. He would take no chances with her health. Her vision was still foggy and she suffered dizziness at times, a lingering consequence of her injury and the battle against the black breath. But her spirit was dimmed by the long days away from nature.

"_It is her Naneth's heritage."_ Her Adar had clarified days earlier. Celeborn had thought long about how to assuage this growing feeling of disconnection from the forest. Unfortunately, her injuries had prevented any action in the last long days. But healer Tarwatirno gave his approval this morning for a small sojourn. He had spent the afternoon making all the arrangements. No one would interrupt them.

"_What do you have planned?" _Her voice carried anticipation and quiet joy that never failed to excite him.

"_Watch and wait. It is a surprise." _The words barely left his mind before he felt her spirit soar with excitement. He moved soundlessly out of the tent. The guards were conversing softly. Their attention somehow drawn in the opposite direction, where Finarfin's Seneschal was discussing security with a small group of elves. His noiseless footfalls were sure. His bearing was one who had a clear objective as they weaved around tents, moving into the darkened areas in between the rows of makeshift homes. His smile was palpable as he felt her insatiable curiosity, which was only slightly dampened by her inability to predict his actions, so hampered she was yet by her injury.

"_What game are you playing at beloved?"_ She teased, but soon the canopy of trees hid their shadows. The song of the trees, coupled with Celeborn's encompassing loving spirit and the placid swaying motion of his steps lulled her into a contented daze. She hardly responded when he eased her gently to settle against a warm velvety quilt. He felt her spirit thrum contentedly as he set about worshipping her with his lips. Tantalizingly slowly his lips slid down her neck to lick her collarbone as he untied the belt that held her wrap closed.

"_But what about you?" _Her plaintiff cry grew louder as he worshipped the perfect round globes and their golden brown pinnacles.

"_Not this day beloved." _His hands slid lower, carefully avoiding contact with her injured side. _"This day you must lie still and rest. Is that not what the healer ordered?" _Her laugh ended in a screech as his hands reached their target.

Xxxxxxxxx

"You summoned me, my King?" Healer Tarwatirno bowed to the Aran Finarfin. "Do I correctly assume it is safe to check on my patient?" The King laughed in response.

"You assume correctly. I am glad you are well prepared." Finarfin pointed to the healer's bags.

"Do we have a far journey?"

"It is just a short walk into the forest. Celeborn sent word that she was resting peacefully."

Xxxxxxxxx

It was several weeks later when Elros, Indiriel, and Ereinion journeyed into the forest to check on Elrond.

"I think Elrond may have the harder task." Elros sighed and shook his head. "I doubt that the majority of elves will ever fully accept him."

"His generous heart and loyal nature will win them over in the end." Ereinion predicted. The Noldor royal guards were made to wait at the boarder of the Avari camp. As a people, the Avari were very insular and suspicious of outsiders. Elros was shocked when Herutaurë, the leader of Avari, came to greet them. They spoke about Elrond's slow but steady recovery. Then the Herutaurë bid them farewell and Kalmë lead them further.

"You look much improved from the last time we met." Kalmë greeted Elros.

"Thank you for watching over me until Glorfindel and Beleford arrived. The Maiar cared for me and helped me heal." Elros returned. The ancient Avari guard bowed in respect but said little else as they traversed the forest. Indeed it was nearly ten minutes later before the reticent guard spoke again, and then only to introduce them to the Avari healer.

"He is in the meadow about ten minutes west."

"No one guards him?" Elros blurted out.

"The meadow is surrounded by our people, Penneth." Healer Sanidan eye's bore into him as if the elder elf could see into his soul.

"Forgive my undiplomatic words." Elros placed his hand over his heart in a sign of respect. "I only worry for my brother's welfare." The healer nodded then continued serenely.

"The Maiar approach is different than ours. Reach out with your senses as you wander closer. You will feel the joy of the forest at your brother's presence. As he learns to meditate on the remnants of the Ainulindalë, his fëa slowly responds to the song. True healing is a slow process, but as the peace of his soul increases part of it is transmitted back to the forest. If you reach out and follow the thread, it will lead you to your brother. Remember, he is still healing. Keep your thoughts soothing."

Elrond was facing away, staring intently at something beyond their view. His hair, unfettered, floated around his head in a breeze that seemed concentrated only in Elrond's vicinity. It effect seemed to softened the beloved silhouette.

"Perhaps I will approach alone, so as not to startle him." Elros' whisper seemed somehow appropriate for the quiet meadow. Ereinion and Indiriel nodded in agreement and stepped back to observe the reunion. As Elros drew closer, he noted the excited chirping and singing. Elrond appeared to be studying a small group of birds perched in the majestic oak at the far side of the meadow. Elros knelt next to his brother and guided the stray mist of hair behind a delicately pointed ear.

"Gwadur (brother) are you well?" Elros called softly. "What has captured your attention?"

"Do you think she understood them?" Elrond whispered not taking his eyes off the birds. "Did she hear them like we hear the trees? The wind whispers to me sometimes."

"The wind?"

"It tells me of where it has been. Perhaps she heard the birds in the same way. But I can not understand them."

"Mother." Elros whispered as he considered the question. He remembered no matter how angry or agitated his Mother might have been with one of their misdeeds, a simple reference to the birds could help his defer or mitigate his punishment. "Perhaps you are correct. She seemed to spend much time with them. She was at peace there. They seemed to allay her loneliness."

"She was younger than we are now." Elrond noted.

"She missed Father and was burdened with two terrible toddlers." Elros saw his brother grimace. "Well at least one terror." He amended with a smile.

"She was an orphan, married very young to a husband forever traveling."

"I could not image being married at our age, let alone parenting a child." Elros brushed the escaping strands of his brother's wayward hair again.

"We at least have each other and we were surrounded by others who recognized our suffering."

"You think Naneth might have begun to feel this call of the Maiar that she also had begun to hear the Maiar songs?"

"It might explain her deep distress."

"I think she enjoyed Ossë and Uinen's songs. They are wild and joyful, impatient and turbulent. My spirit rejoices in their melodies." Elros paused thoughtfully at his brother's astonishment. "She would always bring us to the beach to listen to the sea."

"Like us, I do not think she would have confided these feelings to her councilors. I thought I might be going mad."

"She is safe now where she can always hear the Maiar songs."

"I hope she is happy. Perhaps she and Adar will have another child."

"A daughter might prove less troublesome." Ereinion teased as he and his wife stepped forward to embrace the brothers.


	12. Chapter 12 How does one begin anew?

_***Refugee camps***_

_The stench of death was chokingly intense. Ash floated in the air. Trees grieved in deep monotonous phrases. He had to find his friend. It was his fault. He should have kept a closer watch, for he knew how exhausted his friend had been. _

"_I will find you." He vowed as he steered his steed over the burnt undergrowth. Cruel laughter rang in his ears. Suddenly the scene changed and he was trussed up against a tree. Sharp bonds cut his wrists. _

"_He is dead. We found him most entertaining." Foul drool oozed from a grotesque mouth. The orc leered and licked its lips. Blood dripped from a long limb that was its dinner. "Your steed was especially flavorful. Perhaps you can provide similar entertainment before we need to dine again."_

"_No!" He shouted and thrashed against his bonds._

"Erestor, wake ion-nin." A cool hand on his head spread comfort through him. "Erestor, dear one, it is naught but an ill dream."

"Naneth." Erestor stared dazedly as he shivered. He grasped for her hand as if it were a lifeline. "You are alive!"

"All is well ion-nin." She soothed and bent to pull him into a loving embrace, humming softly as she waited for his heartbeat to slow from its frantic pace. One melody ended and another began before he calmed.

"I am sorry." He blushed, humbled and embarrassed.

"It is I who am sorry, ion-nin. If it had been our choice, your Adar and I would have succored you and your sister away from strife. You and your friends have endured far too much in your young lives. I hope that in this time of renewal and rebuilding, that we can give you your first chance to enjoy peace. You all need time to be young and to study what your heart truly desire, not take up only the duties thrust upon you out of dire necessity."

"I am no longer a child."

"Of that I am painfully aware. Like many, you were forced to grow up too quickly. Out of necessity, we thrust duties and adult responsibilities on you at far too young an age. I spent several centuries discovering my own talents and interests. At the time, no one would dare force responsibility on elves under two hundred and fifty. You had completed grueling studies and were out on patrol protecting our people when you were barely two hundred. A month ago, I nearly lost you." Tears slipped from her eyes as she kissed the crown of his head. Last week the healers had removed the remaining stitches, but the road to a complete recovery would several weeks more.

"I did not do enough to protect you. Thank Eru that most of the Yavannildi were shielded from harm."

"Let go of your guilt for you are blameless. You fought bravely, ion-nin. You and Durgin saved many lives. Now is the time to be selfish, to look into your own heart and discern your own wishes. The future lies ahead. It is a future of peace where you can finally begin to explore paths of your own desires, not just fulfill duties imposed on us by war."

_***Among the Avari in the forest***_

Kalmë kept a close eye on his charge but rarely spoke to the youth. This evening the guard stood just outside of the youth's line of vision, concealed by the shadows of the trees. Dinner had ended. The musicians were tuning their instruments in preparation for the weekly dance that brought young and old such pleasure. Kalmë watched his King and Queen take their leave of the youth, who bowed respectfully. Tradition dictated that the royal couple led the first dance. Not surprisingly, no one stepped up to speak with the Peredhel, who stood out dark and exotic among the light colored Avari. They were an insular people, wary of strangers, although it did not halt their curiosity. Many openly stared at the alien youth in morbid fascination, as if they could not decide what to think about one whose blood mixed elven with the divine as well as that of the second born.

"It is too late for him to be about." The healer noted sourly as he approached Kalmë. "He should be resting."

"Can you not see that he is lonely?"

"You encouraged him to seek out the princess?" The healer questioned.

"Are you not concerned for him as a whole person?"

"I am his healer. Of course I watch over his health."

"As long as he does not interact with too many of us." Kalmë gave a grim look as he realized the difficulties this child of the three kindreds would face in a world of elves. Elves whirled in delight as the rhythm of the music quickened.

"I hardly think any elleth of the Avari would seek a relationship an outsider who is both yet a child and a peredhel." As if in response, the distant dark head bowed slightly.

"He seeks a dance and some friendly conversation not a relationship." Kalmë watched the youth turned in the direction of his tent. The healer sighed in relief.

"Make sure our patient turns in safely."

_***Foundations of a new Lindon***_

"Sire, the architects and engineers have convened. They await you." Tarest found Gil-Galad poring over the planner's map of the proposed city.

"Have they implemented any of the suggestions?"

"I believe so, my Lord. But allow them to update you."

"What about the quarry?"

"People are addressing the logistics of transportation."

"Wood is going to be in short supply for the next yen."

"Aran Finarfin and his council have equitably divided supply between themselves and men. Primarily it will be used for shipbuilding and to sure up their makeshift accommodations." Tarest subtly guided his Lord to the door.

"Our first buildings will rely primarily on stone." Gil-Galad muttered as he followed his Seneschal. "Perhaps their strength and beauty will cause many to rethink their decision to sail."

"I think many will remain here, because your vision and guidance inspires confidence." Tarest whispered reverently. This young King had impressed many with his nobility, vision and sense of fairness.

"We have a chance to build anew here, to make good on all those who have sacrificed for us."

_***The camp of the Noldor of Tirion***_

"Beloved." He leaned forward to kiss his golden wife awake. In this instant between dream and awakening he could truly assess her state, before the independent and self-sufficient daughter of Finarfin's sharp mind hid all her hurts behind the powerful wall of her mind. "A draught for pain then."

"It is not necessary." She pulled him closer to kiss him but he could feel her flinch slightly at the movement. It would likely be another week before her side healed enough to remove the stitches.

"It is not necessary to endure this pain when a healing tea is easily procured. His heart ached to see her shake her head and close her eyes. A tear welled from the creased lids. He knew instinctively that memories of darker times and buried guilt now entwined with the remnants of that dark voice.

"No," he whispered against her lips. "Galadriel, leave the past where it belongs. It is our fate to give thanks for our present blessings and to fight for the future." He ran his fingers through her silken hair and gently pulled her into his arms. A call from one of Finarfin's servants interrupted their conversation. He felt his Lady stiffen slightly at the gaze of the unknown servant. Her pride and resolve to not let any see her either her spiritual or physical pain was clear. Celeborn gave a silent prayer of thanks that he had won her love and deep trust. He gave quiet instructions to the apprentice healer to send for a pain relieving draught. The awed elf bowed politely and left. He turned his full attention back to his beloved, laying soft kisses across the furled brow. Aman had been too small and constricting to the children of Finarfin. It was not just pride but a deep-seated need to make one's mark, to make a difference in the world that had sent his beloved across the cruel grinding ice. In Aman, the elder leaders never stepped down to allow the younger elves to blossom. That, unfortunately, was not an issue in the Kingdoms of the East. So many had fallen in wars, now a very young Ereinion was King of the Noldor. This grim line of thought sparked Celeborn's strategy for distracting his wife from her pain.

"In a few weeks we will join Ereinion at Lindon. Indiriel sent a thick letter for you. They are in the midst of planning the layout of both a small future city and palace buildings. I believe she seeks your opinions." He smiled at the immediate change in his beloved's mood.

"A city?"

"Aye, perhaps the shells of several buildings will be complete before Yule. Indiriel would very much like us to join them before winter sets in." A near reverence call in Quenya interrupted their conversation.

"Enter." Celeborn returned in Sindarin.

"Aranel (Princess)," the young healer obviously spoke no Sindarin and stared uncertainly as he held out the healing draught. Celeborn switched to Quenya, a language he had learned much to Aran Elu Thingol's chagrin.

"The Master Healer prepared a healing draught." The young elf stammered, unnerved by being in the presence of such royalty. He delivered the draught to the Lady. "He bid me to tell you that he will come within the hour to attend you, Lady Artanis."

"Thank you." Galadriel managed a smile from where she was ensconced in her husband's gentle embrace. The young elf blushed at the sight of the beautiful Lady and nervously stuttered a polite goodbye. Celeborn held his laughter until the footsteps retreated.

"Even injured your beauty takes people's breath away."

_***Among the Avari in the forest***_

"Child, how many times must I remind you? You are here to heal. You need to let your soul be idle and listen to the song." The Avari healer sighed in frustration at his inability to understand or control this unusual patient. Elrond bristled at the tone. It seemed each time he made a connection to one of the few Avari who would speak with him, work called them away – either that or this stubborn healer would step in to remind him that he was here to rest and heal.

"I simply can not endure this. Can you not supply some books or allowed me to continue my lessons with your medicinal plant expert?" Elrond felt the eyes of the elves surrounding them widen at his audacity at questioning their chief healer and he fell immediately silent.

"Enough Penneth. Go to the meadow and resume your mediation. Begin with your breathing exercises. I will be up to check on you in a few hours." The tone brokered no argument. So Elrond sighed and simply excused himself to walk down to the meadow. The other elves watched him leave. Their eyes were not all benevolent.

_"I wonder if Findarato and Artanis felt such scrutiny and suspicion when they entered Doriath? Would elves outside of Gil-Galad's circle always look at him as such an oddity? He nearly laughed at the memory Eonwë's proclamation that his role would be 'serve the Eldar' and 'council many from the poorest to Kings of Arda'. It would be long indeed before the average Avari decided to even speak with him." The trees read his dark mood. He heard their concern whispers and was surprised at the singsong voices they adapted to trying to entice him to swing in their branches._

"_No play makes you a dreary elf indeed!" _They teased.

"_I admit to frolic among your branches is very appealing. But if I do, they will be convinced that I am still an elfling." _Elrond returned.

"_But you are an elfling yet. You are hundreds of years younger than the youngest elf here." _The great oak reasoned. _"Why not indulge yourself? My branches are perfect for swinging."_

"_They will come gawk at the peredhel."_

"_Peredhel?" _The tree repeated in confusion. They did not understand the term but felt his deepest wish. _"You wish to hide from the others? A game of hide and seek?"_

"_You know of places to hide?" _Elrond returned, suddenly intrigued.

"_My roots reach deep. I know of a hall carved underground by water. Echoes and breezes that pass there speak of a grand palace where the rock has been molded into crystals and sculptures." _

"_A palace underground?" _Childlike curiosity rang in the elven voice. The tree smiled at the youth's joy and continued to regal him with tales of the caverns below.

_****Foundation of a new Lindon****_

"Foundations!" Indiriel bubbled with excitement as she hugged Ereinion. "I watched them laying foundations!"

"Perhaps before winter sets in we will be surrounded by solid walls and have a roof over our heads, though I fear little else will be finished inside."

"I would celebrate a roof and walls, even as we have to snuggle together for warmth." She whispered in his ear. "I promise to never take you for granted. These years without you, living in constant fear, have convinced me that we must live in the moment." She leaned in to kiss him, a kiss that he happily reciprocated. "Will Elros and Elrond come for Yule? Elrond would be much happier celebrating the holiday here with us then among the wary Forest Folk. The guards they assigned us seemed more to be protecting their people from our presence rather than vice versa."

"I do believe you are more than partially correct, although their Lord and Lady were most gracious and welcoming." Ereinion laughed. "But I have sent a carefully worded request to their King to allow Glorfindel and Cirulian to retrieve Elrond before Yule."

"Glorfindel may gain a warmer welcome. I had the distinct impression that they were more than familiar with him."

"I do believe our Lord Glorfindel is much older than he acts."

_***Among the Avari in the forest***_

Elrond glanced quickly around. The trees murmured that the coast was clear. Thanks to the aid of the wind and trees, he had once again succeeded in covering his trail. He slipped into the hole headfirst. It was only slightly wider than his frame. A short crawl later, he emerged into the comforting solitude. Here a gentle, accepting calm encircled him. During these weeks of mediation, his mind began to gradually sense the thoughts of others. It was not that he could truly hear their silent comments, but the feelings and colors their spirits emitted when they looked at him were most unsettling. There was little doubt that many looked upon him with a disgusted curiosity. These foul thought weighed heavily on his mood and obscured his attempts to listen to the healing songs of the Ainur. He preferred the company of the Herutaurë and his family, for he could feel their genuine concern and growing acceptance.

"_Greetings child." Warmth enveloped him as the soft song caressed his mind. He forced himself to remain calm and listen, his body merely an extension of the song. Melodies rose about him, swirling like eddies around his soul, eliciting questions from deep within his being. His heart offered them up slowly. _

"_Who am I? What am I?" _

Xxxxxxxxxx

"Herutaurë! I have lost track of the peredhel and it is nearly nightfall." Kalmë's voice was worried.

"This has happened before?" The King of the Avari was surprised, for Kalmë was the best of his guard.

"He has become more adept at slipping away from me, though each day I keep closer tabs on the youth. But always he returns well before dusk, dusty as if he had frolicked like an elfling in the dirt."

"Have you spoke with the trees at the last place you saw him?"

"They consider the young one their charge and will not willingly tattle on him."

"I would not wish to tell Gil-Galad or Finarfin that we lost their peredhel, when they released him to our protection. Perhaps his tent holds some clues." The Forest Lord and guard crossed the meadow to Elrond's tent. The healer met them outside.

"Might you know where the peredhel is? I usually stop before the evening meal to check on him."

"He is missing. We were going to look in his tent for clues." From the entrance the tent seemed spartan. A cot stood in the middle and in front of them were a few of the youth's possessions and his harp. Hidden behind the bed was a basket of bark and shredded plant clippings. A bowl held a pulpy, watery mixture. A long flat trough and screen were visible as were sheets of the drying paper. Smaller bowls held crushed plants and colored extracts. Papers were freshly illustrated pictures of the medicinal plants of this area and detailed with Elrond's neat script.

"The young one is very industrious." The Forest Lord remarked in approval.

"I do not see how, unless he does not sleep. During the day, he has been on a strict routine to encourage meditation." The healer threw up his hands in frustration, while his King bent to retrieve a closed manuscript. The King flipped through the manuscript with a low whistle of appreciation.

"I believe our charge is underground." He said as he revealed detailed pictures of caverns decorated with dripstones from the ceiling. Stone columns rose like children's towers from the ground. The others gasped at the illustrations. Their Lord flipped back a few pages in the book to a well-drawn map that marked the entrance to the caverns.

"It says it is little more than a rabbit hole and one must crawl for some span before it opens into the large void."

"My Lord." Kalmë began hesitatingly.

"You have lost your charge. I believe it is your duty to investigate." Herutaurë turned to address the healer. "Your skills may also be necessary. Perhaps you need to rethink methods for treating this patient. Organize some lamps and blankets. Quickly now." In a mere twenty minutes a handful of the Avari and their King had gathered around the small hole indicated by the map.

"I shall go first." Kalmë announced, not a little unwilling, though his Lord's gaze was all the order he needed.

"My Lord." Kalmë's voice quivered slightly as he crawled on his belly through the tiny aperture. "Surely, he is elsewhere."

"Kalmë," the Forest Lord's tone even at this distance was enough to stop the warrior from speaking further. "Thrust your lamp further ahead. The cavern must be but a little further." Minutes past before the warrior's voice echoed softly from the hole.

"It is amazingly large. I see him." The King and healer waited for the warrior to report. Finally his voice carried more clearly. "The youth appears to be asleep, though I can not rouse him. But I am no healer."

"The healer is on his way." The King declared much to his subject's dismay.

"It is a long crawl. Perhaps you should push your healing supplies before you. I will hold the lamp at the end of the tunnel to light the way." The healer flung out curses in a fearful wavering voice as he crawled through the tunnel.

"You are doing well. It is but a little further." Kalmë coaxed good-naturedly. "Keep looking ahead. The cavern is large and truly a sight worth seeing." Finally the healer emerged and Kalmë helped him to his feet. Two lamps now illuminated the dreamlike cavern. The light glinted and sparkled off the stalactites, which were like chandeliers bejeweling a grand ballroom. Twenty elves laid head to foot might cross its diameter. Slack jawed the healer just stood gaping momentarily at the wonder around him.

"Limestone I believe." Kalmë broke the silence. "Although what force of nature molded them into such exquisite shapes, I dare not guess." The healer and warrior exchanged a long glance before Kalmë motioned to the sleeping peredhel. Elrond was lying near the far side. It was obvious when they approached that this was the spot from which he had done many of the drawings in the book. The healer began to slowly and methodically assess his patient. A contented smile lit the young face, although his eyes were closed in exhaustion.

"Is it a healing sleep?" Kalmë whispered, though his voice echoed in the cavern.

"A deep and rejuvenating one." The healer confirmed as he wrapped the peredhel firmly in his own dusty cloak.

"He seems to glow as do his immediate surroundings." Kalmë noted.

"I do not know what this place is. But it seems as if he has found a connection to the song here and is drawing strength from nature."

"He shivers although it is only mild and damp in here. I will retrieve the blankets."

"I believe his mixed blood makes him more susceptible to the elements." The healer observed in a derogatory tone.

"Yet, none of the Avari could draw healing strength from Arda." Kalmë noted in awe. The guard was slightly offended that the narrow-minded healer did not appreciate the attributes of his unusual patient. "Can you not use such an ability to augment his recovery?

"It must be an inheritance from Melian." The healer grunted slightly as he considered the options as a new and unsettling thought entered his mind. _"Perhaps it is due to the mingling of these three bloodlines."_


	13. Chapter 13 Small steps forward

_They targeted him simply because he was different, ambushing him, like some wild animal. The hunters slowly and methodically reduced the circle until the innocent victim drew aware of the danger. By then it was far too late. They mocked him as they ripped off his noble garb. Jeers and punches were accentuated by cries of pain. _

"Galadriel," the beloved voice called her back from the vision. She shivered with cold, always an after effect, although a warm blanket had been wrapped around her.

"Some honeyed tea." Her Adar's concerned voice floated in the air. Moments later a warm cup pressed at her lips as nonsensical words soothed gently.

"A vision then." Familiar strong hands brushed her head.

"_Her Adar,"_ she realized belatedly.

"Should we delay our departure?" Celeborn pulled the shivering figure closer and laid a kiss on the pain-creased brow.

"I will be fine." Her voice sounded weak and far away.

"Of course you will, beloved."

"You shall ride in the carriage." Finarfin's tone was one of command. Celeborn smiled as he felt her bristle. In the last few years, such carriages and wagons were solely used to transport the injured or to move supplies. She was Galadriel and would not take well to being classified as an invalid. Celeborn the wise inserted a gentler argument.

"Ereinion sent a carriage for us. Seems your nephew is wishes to show his appreciation for your deeds. We would not wish to appear ungrateful for the High King's attentiveness." Aran Finarfin gave an undignified cough.

"He will need a few years yet to grow into that title."

"He will make a great King." Galadriel affirmed.

Xxxxxxxxx _Refuge camps _xxxxxxxxxX

"Slowly Erestor, you do not wish to over exert yourself." Niphendriel hovered nearby, anxiously watching her son hobble across the small open square. Perspiration beaded on his brow. Sighing in defeat he braced himself against his Mother. A new and unexpected voice startled them.

"There is no need to rush things." A bright voice chided as a strong arm gently wrapped around his waist, providing much needed support. "There is no shame in a warrior taking time to recover from his injuries."

"Glorfindel!" Erestor panted from exertion.

"Seems you have exercised as the healer ordered. Now allow us to help you back to your tent." Glorfindel smiled at the way Erestor's eyes darken upon mention of 'tent'. Niphendriel supported her son from the opposite side. The three slowly traversed the short distance back to the tent. Glorfindel watched as Niphendriel attended to her son. Before long Erestor was comfortably ensconced on the cot.

"Can I get you something for the pain?"

"Just water." Erestor's ragged breathing evened slightly. "It will pass soon enough and I do not want to sleep so soon."

"How do the healers say you are progressing?" Glorfindel asked. Niphendriel gave him a glare as she answered her son.

"There seems to have been some nerve damage that will slow the healing process. It will take months to regain full mobility, but he will be walking more steadily soon. Hopefully next summer you will be dancing at your sister's wedding."

"Yes it would not due to be known as Calimdriel's invalid brother." Erestor commented darkly.

"Erestor!" Niphendriel's tone was warning. But Glorfindel laughed, the refreshing sound clearing the air like a gently breeze.

"No, it would not, _Penneth!_" Glorfindel ignored the sour look his endearment elicited. "I could tell you stories of my own slow recovery after the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. I think I drove my caregivers to tears."

"I find that hard to imagine." Erestor blinked in astonishment.

"It is true never the less. Elves like us do not endure confinement well." Glorfindel continued as he crossed to the entrance of the tent where a package had been placed. "But I brought some supplies to amuse you." He carried over the cloth bundle and set it on Niphendriel's worn trunk.

"Perhaps these might also serve to guard your Naneth's sanity as she endures your recovery and rehabilitation." He smiled as he slowly unwrapped the bundle to reveal several books as well as a quill, ink and parchment.

"This one is written by a friend of mine. I think you may enjoy it. It is a simple story about everyday life in Gondolin."

"I can not thank you enough!" Erestor's eyes lit with joy as he gingerly accepted the book from Glorfindel.

"You can thank me best by obeying the healer's advice. We've arranged for a carriage to bring you to Mithlond next month for the Yule festival. I know Elrond will want to see you."

"Elrond will be there! I thought he was ill and staying with the Avari for treatment."

"Cirulian and I will leave next week to retrieve him. King Gil-Galad would like him to spend the holidays at their new home."

"I heard building had begun. But surely it can not be finished already."

"In truth most buildings have but their foundations outlined. But when I visited last month they were engineering the roof over the King's main quarters. I believe he plans for most of those rooms to be occupied for Yule."

Xxxxxxxxx _Among the Avari_ xxxxxxxxxX

"Gildor! I did not know you and your band were encamped with the Avari!" Glorfindel embraced his old friend."

"It is good to see you Glorfindel!" Gildor and Ivorchith both clasped the Vanya's shoulder. "We only just arrived from patrolling the hinterlands. I have just given a report to the Herutaurë. We will leave in a few days to brief Gil-Galad in Mithlond. Do you have time for a toast among friends?"

"I could be coaxed into accepting a glass of wine." Glorfindel laughed brightly as he turned to introduce his companion. "Have you met Cirulian?" The Teleri bowed slightly in greeting as protocol demanded. Handshakes and laughter were exchanged as well as names. Wine flowed and lembas were distributed. Food was not plentiful, but thankfully this winter there should be no one starving.

"One of Cirdan's warriors." Gildor clasped arms with the Teleri.

"Now in service to Gil-Galad."

"And your mission?" Ivorchith raised his brow in query. The tall Noldo's clothes were worn and stained. These warriors had earned a respite.

"Return Earendil's son to the safety of Mithlond."

"Ah, I have yet to lay eyes on the peredhel. Their healer keeps him in seclusion. But come, let us continue our discussion by the fire." Gildor clapped the golden elf on the back. "But come, there is surely time to share song and drink before you track down your charge."

Xxxxxxxxx _Traveling_ xxxxxxxxxX

Celeborn brushed a golden strand behind his beloved's ear. Her porcelain cheeks were now tinged with red, like the makeup for summer solstice festival, but it was nearly Yule. Their carriage had paused for the security check at boundary of Mithlond. He could hear Aran Finarfin's brief discussion with the guards. Then the carriage door opened and his father-in-law entered.

"It will not be long now, perhaps thirty minutes more. I gave instructions for the carriage to draw up to Gil-Galad's residence. Several of his guards will accompany us from here." Celeborn nodded and gently caressed the golden head that rested against his thigh. Finarfin crouched near his daughter's sleeping form and ran his hands along her head and torso to assess her condition. "She is with fever."

"It is mild and she is deep in healing sleep. " Celeborn frowned slightly. "Perhaps I should have not agreed to us traveling yet."

"I do not think even you could have kept her in that tent another day."

"The change of scenery will be most welcome, though I had not anticipated the journey to be taxing. Tarwatirno seemed relieved to be rid of her." Celeborn said darkly.

"You must forgive my chief healer. He was at all of my children's births. My wife and I would trust no other. But between the four of them, I think he has set more broken bonds and stitched more gashes than he would like to remember." Finarfin looked away. "We were all devastated that they chose to follow Fëanor from Aman. Then to lose all my sons and nearly lose my daughter." He choked slightly.

"She will be well soon."

"She will welcome the change of scenery and should be more forthcoming about her injuries with Master Noenri."

"Gil-Galad's chief healer?" Finarfin mused aloud. "How do they know each other?"

"They both studied healing with Queen Melian in Doriath, although Noenri was already a master healer."

"Artanis studied healing?" He shook his head in bemusement. His daughter had always transcended gender roles, from working at the forge to insisted training with sword and bow. She had yet to divulged any details about the nightmarish crossing of the Helcaraxë. "She has experienced so much - grown so much. I hardly know her anymore."

"I think you know her in the important ways. Perhaps these experiences changed her, but I am sure of one thing. You should be proud. She faced many difficulties with courage and tenacity."

Xxxxxxxxx _Among the Avari_ xxxxxxxxxX

"Healing is a slow process that is promoted by meditation and rest. Nightmares often plague his nights. I gave the youth a sleeping inducing tea." The healer tone was professional, but Glorfindel sensed the undercurrent: much was being deliberately passed over. Cirulian shifted uneasily beside him.

"_Perhaps you would be so kind as to show us to his tent?" _Glorfindel slipped easily into an archaic form of the Avari language. Cirulian masked his shock at the strange language.

"_Who are you?" _The healer gaped at the unexpected us of their high tongue.

"_One of the first ones. A brother of your King, for I awakened shortly after him."_ Cirulian watched shock spread across the healers face at whatever Glorfindel had told the healer. The arrogance of the healer seemed to melt away and he bowed humbly to the reborn warrior. Cirulian could not discern what was spoken but could clearly recognize the change in body language.

"This way my Lords." The healer returned to Sindarin.

"So far from the fire?" Glorfindel shook his head in disapproval. "Cirulian, heat some blankets. Temperatures will sink quite low tonight." Indeed, even under a thick blanket in his tea-induced sleep, Elrond shivered with cold. Cirulian and Glorfindel set their cots abutting Elrond's and slipped the fire warmed blankets around him.

"The heated coals were a good idea." Glorfindel praised as the settled down to sleep near Elrond. The peredhel was thinner than Glorfindel remembered but as he assessed the sleeping figure, he could already discern some improvements.

"Is he well?" Concern laced Cirulian's voice.

"He is healing."

"How long does such healing take?"

"Wounds to the fëa are slow to mend. I spent nearly sixty years in Mandos. Most take far longer." Cirulian gaped at the reborn warrior. The fate of the dead was hard for the living to contemplate; yet the golden Vanya stood here before him. Glorfindel smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Fear not, I doubt it will take half that long. We should rest while we can." Cirulian nodded in agreement and a short time later both warriors were sleeping soundly. Incoherent mutterings woke Glorfindel near dawn.

"A nightmare?" Cirulian yawned. Glorfindel nodded as he leaned over the restless sleeper.

"Elrond, mellon-nin, awaken." Silver eyes darted open, betraying fear and anxiety. "All is well, my friend." Awareness flooded the silver orbs, then joyous disbelief.

"Glorfindel?" Elrond coughed as he drew in the cold air too quickly and frowned at the concern in his friend's eyes.

"We arrived late last night. You were already sleeping." Glorfindel lied openly. There was no need to tell his friend that they had discussed him at length with both the Avari King and chief healer.

"Kalmë said that I would remain here for the next year." Elrond whispered in surprise.

"Aran Gil-Galad bid you to return for the holiday."

"To the camps?" Uncertainty mixed with sadness. "Elros said little remained in Mithlond. The ruins of the palace now grace a cliff overlooking the sea."

"He and Indiriel are excited to have you see the beginning of New Mithlond. I am told the foundations of the palace are already in place. A few buildings even have roofs, though their interior is far from finished." Glorfindel smiled as he saw joy light up Elrond's features. "Unless you wish to stay here?"

"No! When can we go?" The boyish enthusiasm and sweet smile were that of a young elf.

"_Barely fifty,"_ Glorfindel recalled. _"We celebrated his coming of age at war."_

"Gildor and his company arrived yesterday and wish to remain one more day. It will be safer for everyone to travel together. I thought we might partake of the celebration and dancing tonight and leave tomorrow morning."

Xxxxxxxxxx

Roads that curved off the main path were still unpaved, though sticks marked their outline. Here and there was sprinkled a completed building, though most were grassy plots outlined only with stones. The carriage clattered up onto the newly laid main street. Breathtakingly deep blue eyes blinked open at him.

"All is well beloved. We should be reaching the palace in a few minutes." Celeborn bent and laid kisses on her brow. Her tenuous smile warmed his heart. He could feel the thoughts flying through her head.

"I should …"

"You need not do anything." Her Adar interjected as he helped her sit. Lids fluttered shut over opal eyes. Celeborn brushed off her cloak and straightened the broach, which cinched it closed.

"I doubt Gil-Galad and Indiriel will stand any ceremony. Their court is very much under construction, although the outlines of buildings and roads do imbue one with hope for the future."

"How do you feel?" Celeborn brushed a wayward gold braid behind an elegant ear. Moments passed in silence as Galadriel gathered her strength and straightened to her full height. The carriage clattered onto a circular drive and halted outside what would someday be a grand stone entranceway, though now it lacked a door. The horses moved slightly forward as the driver and footman exchanged suggestions and maneuvered the carriage door adjacent to the carriage steps. Several guards and servants swarmed out of the entrance followed by Gil-Galad and Indiriel. The footman opened the door and helped them disembark. Finarfin was the first to greet his great grandson and his wife.

"Welcome to Mithlond!" Indiriel called out as she waved to her friend. Galadriel smiled and took Celeborn's arm as she gild down the steps. She hid her weakness behind a serene smile as they approached the King and Queen and gave them their obeisance. Indiriel threw decorum to the wind and embraced Finarfin's daughter.

"It is so good to see you!" She took the too cold hands in her own. "How I prayed you would be well! But come, we have some refreshments prepared and a warm fire going in the parlor. Then you must all rest from the journey."

Xxxxxxxxxx

Glorfindel emerged from the undulating circle of dancers. His azure eyes locked with those of the Forest Lord and in the brief glance welcome and greetings were exchanged. Momentarily disoriented from the swirling dance, he stood still to search for his friends among the crowd. Gildor and his band were seated at the edge near the great oaks. He was happy to see that Elrond had finally joined them after trying to opt out of the event. He moved passed Gildor and Ivorchith, who were conversing with a small circle of young Avari elves.

"_Is there anyone Gildor can not charm?"_ He chuckled softly to himself. _"Even the xenophobic Avari!"_

"What is so amusing?" Gildor questioned.

"Nothing can compare to circle of dance." Glorfindel praised warmly, making the gathered Avari heartily agree. Soon many were offering polite goodbyes as their hearts turned again towards the dance.

"You have chased away our audience!" Ivorchith teased lightly before escorting an elleth to the circle.

"Your friend is quiet." Gildor glanced at the peredhel who sat, seemingly entranced by the dancers. The hum of conversations swirled like eddies but seemed to pass by the slim figure. The young elf was wrapped warmly in a thick cloak but still shivered. Gildor noted a small group of Avari, who were staring at the peredhel.

"He is young and has seen far too much." Glorfindel sipped at his wine. Gildor nodded thoughtfully.

"You ordered him to come tonight." Gildor observed quietly. "Twas not his choice."

"Gil-Galad told me how much Elrond likes such dances."

"Perhaps he does not feel welcome here." Gildor mused as he strolled determinedly to fetch a glass of the hot mulled wine. He stooped near Elrond, who startled at his approach.

"Something to warm you up." The irrepressible wanderer smiled warmly.

"Thank you my Lord." Elrond lips turned upward with a forced smile. He accepted the glass graciously but could not hide his dubious sniff at its contents.

"Not a sleeping draught, though often it has that effect." Gildor laughed as Elrond took a sip. "May I join you Earendilion?"

"Of course." The soft voice barely carried over the din around them. The youth flinched ever so slightly as a group of revelers passed. Gildor looked up to study the retreating elves, who sporadically glanced backwards with undisguised curiosity. The King and Queen had treated the newcomers with care and respect but Gildor could read the distain that was painted in some eyes. The elf next to him flinched again before the soft voice addressed Glorfindel.

"I would prefer to return to my tent, if it is alright."

"As you wish, my Lord." Glorfindel bowed and smiled at his young friend.

"We will accompany you." Gildor interjected as they rose to their feet.

"Do not let me spoil your evening." Elrond waved them off.

"You do no such thing." Glorfindel put his arm around Elrond's shoulder as they moved through the crowd. The Vanya perceived Gildor's concern. Thus he was more observant of other's reactions as they walked among those celebrating. Elrond only relaxed once they cleared the gathering and emerged alone onto the forest path. It was not long before they entered the small tent now cluttered with three cots.

"Thank you for escorting me back. Please go enjoy yourselves. I only plan to rest for tomorrows journey." He pulled a warm blanket around his thick cloak and sat down on the cot.

"Can you hear the thoughts of others?" Gildor sat down across from Earendil's son, who both trembled and gaped in astonishment at the question.

"How? Why would you think that?" Elrond shook his head in shock as Gildor leaned forward to grasp his hand.

"Do you hear the thoughts of others Earendilion?"

"I… sometimes …it comes unbiddened …. I know not how to stop it…" Several tears slipped down Elrond's icy cheeks. Gildor leaned over and wiped them away.

"You hear those who can not shield their minds. Those less knowledgeable and less gifted are unable to veil their thoughts from others."

"You can hear other's thoughts too?"

"Some of us can. It is a gift more common among those who have seen the western shores, although perhaps this is a remnant of Melian's line. Did not Galadriel instruct you in your healing gift as well as how to shield your mind from unwanted invasion?"

"My healing gift yes but I could always keep my thoughts from others." Elrond's face betrayed horror as he whispered. "Am I invading others?"

"Not purposefully but in a way. Glorfindel or I could teach you." Gildor started but the Vanya interrupted with a snort.

"I could not." Glorfindel disagreed. "I know well how to shield my thoughts and not to invade the thoughts of others. But to teach it to another that is a different matter."

"Alright then perhaps Cirdan, Galadriel or I could help. It is not unusual for these things to manifest themselves once one has reached their majority."

"I would like to learn. It is not pleasant to hear other people's unfiltered thoughts."

Xxxxxxxxxx _Mithlond xxxxxxxxxX_

They had indulged in a veritable feast given what rations were at this time of year. Everyone savored the hearty stew and wine. Indiriel kissed her husband then turned to lead Galadriel and Celeborn to their room.

"She is still unwell." Ereinion mused as he moved to fill Finarfin's glass. Waiting until his Uncle, Aunt and wife were well out of earshot.

"I see you waited to comment."

"I am wise enough to know when things are better left unsaid." Ereinion's serious mien broke into a grin. "There is little need to risk my Aunt's ire."

"It was a near thing." Finarfin whispered and sipped at the wine. "Healing will take some months yet."

"But she will fully recover."

"Yes." A small pause was broken by a soft whisper. "It brings me great sorrow to know that is not the case for Indiriel. She is a treasure."

"My treasure." Ereinion whispered and looked away. "Twice she barely escaped death. I count each hour we share together as a blessing."

"You are both certain that you will not sail? There is healing in Valinor."

"I can not. My place is here with my people. I can not explain – but from what I hear of the song, I know I am needed here."

"Indiriel might yet seek healing."

"She refuses and I would not truss her upon some ship against her will. Under such circumstances she might not survive the journey."

"Yet you hold out hope."

"Perhaps in time I may convince her."

"My Eärwen would like her immediately. Should you convince her be assured that she would be welcomed with open arms in our house. My wife will lament deeply when I return without a single one of our family." Finarfin paused thoughtfully. "It seems that letters and portraits will need to suffice. Do you know a good portrait painter?"

Xxxxxxxxxx _Taking leave of the Avari_ xxxxxxxxxX

"Remember Penneth, you are still healing not healed." The Herutaurë embraced him. Elrond had bristled at the memory of the Avari healer's last orders. "We will look for your return in the early summer." Elrond's wild black mount snored with impatience, but the young elf whispered quiet endearments as he mounted.

Many had come to bid farewell to Gildor and his company. Elrond saw Lord Gildor and Ivorchith respectfully bowing to the Lord of the Forest and wondered how these wandering Noldor had managed to find such acceptance among the Avari. Once they made their cordial farewells, they mounted their steeds. Horses had a high mortality rate on the bloody fields of warfare. Gildor's contingent was one of the few these days to have enough horses for every elf. The Avari song to Elbereth echo in their wake as the company slowly took their leave.

"You are shivering." Gildor addressed Elrond.

"I would be even colder without this fine hat." Elrond gave a cheeky grin. It was a gift from Selina. Beleford's wife had sent a box full of the hats to the men during the war. Most people in Elros' contingent were happy to receive such a practical item. A furry flap extended over the ears. Elves, who were not bothered by the cold, thought this invention was quite ridiculous and Elrond had born much teasing this morning.

"You look odd to say the least." Gildor laughed.

"Luckily this well placed flap selectively filters insults." Elrond laughed as Braigsûl spit in Gildor's direction.

"Aye, it is a fair bit chilly this morning." Glorfindel drew up behind them. "Perhaps we will see enough sun to warm up a few degrees by lunch."

"Chilly does not adequately describe it." Elrond shivered and blew into his gloved hands.

"Perhaps we can arrange a place closer to the fire for you."

"I would be most grateful." Elrond returned. Gildor and Glorfindel exchanged smiles, happy that it would be straightforward to guarantee Elrond's safety this night. Glorfindel had told but a handful of people of Galadriel's premonition, opting to keep the information from Elrond. The young Peredhel had enough on his mind.

"Grateful enough to treat us to a song?" Ivorchith turned and shouted to the others. "Earendil's son provides the music tonight!" Others cheered.

"If I can play with gloved fingers." Elrond murmured.

Xxxxxxxxx _Refuge camps_ xxxxxxxxxX

Niphendriel smiled at the sight of her son, wrapped warmly in blankets and curled up contentedly with the books that Glorfindel had brought. The afternoon was decidedly cold and the solstice was but a few days away. They had delayed their departure for Mithlond at the advice of the healers.

"Erestor, I thought you might enjoy something warm." She sat down next to him and exchanged the elaborately illustrated history tome for a warm mug. The honey, herbs and spices of the uruiwîn were festive and soothing. The traditional Sindarin mulled wine was originally a way to make wine past its prime drinkable again, especially during the lean winter season. But many who had grown up during the hard times of the War of Wrath associated this drink with the solstice celebration. The aroma never failed to bring a smile to her son's face.

"Uruiwîn! Thank you Naneth!" Erestor moved over to make room for his Naneth on the blanket. "But you need not worry so much over me. Master Tarwatirno released me from his care."

"He recommended that you take things slowly."

"What will you do without an invalid son to care for?"

"Your sister's wedding will more than occupy my time. Oropher does not want to settle in Mithlond."

"He will need to at least until the forests recover and are purged of any remnants of enemy forces."

"In any case it is your sister's and Orodiun's wish to have their wedding among the trees. They would have been married months ago but it was Orodiun's family wish to hold a large wedding celebration. Oropher will travel to see if the Avari might be amenable to having the celebration in their settlement."

"Orodiun always speaks fondly of the years he spent with them learning the ways of the forest."

"It was wrong of me not to allow you that same experience."

"No," Erestor stated fiercely. "Oropher's family is large. You had just lost Adar. I would not have left you and Calimdriel then even if you ordered me to. She was just a tiny elfling."

"I love you Erestor. I have always been proud of you." Tears welled in her eyes.

"We will celebrate the solstice and then help Calimdriel and Orodiun with their plans. Perhaps we can obtain permission to visit the Avari together."

"I would like that ion-nin."

Xxxxxxxxx _Traveling to Mithlond _xxxxxxxxxX

_The smell of burning flesh permeated his senses. He moaned and gasped at the vivid memories._ _"Not a second time! He could not take such an onslaught again!"_ Light and warmth engulfed him and a voice commanded him away from the horrors in his mind.

"Glorfindel, follow my voice to the present." No it was not the deep commanding baritone of his King. This was a rich tenor that wavered uncertainly. His blurred vision focused but instead of the rich, stately garb of the King of Gondolin, a young elf stood before him grasping his hand. The beguiling silver eyes shown with the light of the stars, while the silky night hair floated like smoke around a lean, angular face. "Glorfindel?" He blinked dazedly trying to place the singular figure before him. The youthful brow was furled in worry. The elf was too young to understand but the unusual spirit sensed the deep distress even in sleep. Memory clicked.

"Elrond," Glorfindel gasped as his hand ghosted the outline of the cheek.

"How can I help you?" Glorfindel's heart twisted with guilt at genuine desire that rang in the young voice. How did one who had been robbed of his childhood and had suffered so much, retain such a generous spirit? He vowed anew to succor and protect this extraordinary grandson of his King.

"You already have."

"But I have not done anything." Elrond muttered in confusion.

"You called me from dark memories and nightmares." Glorfindel smiled. "You do not think you are the only one who suffers from nightmares." Elrond blushed and looked away.

"Ereinion says it is better to talk about them – that talking diminishes their power." Elrond whispered.

"Does it?" Assure eyes probed flustered silver. There was no way he would ever burden this young peredhel with these ancient memories. No, not until the peredhel had grown into a great healer. His heart already foretold the youth's path. Yet never would he voice this foresight, for Elrond deserved to discover these things on his own.


	14. Chapter 14 Collision with the Vanyar

"You should collect your charge." Gildor pointed back to where Elrond had halted. Braigsûl pawed disconcertedly. The horse was straining to go forward but Elrond had reined him to a halt, seemingly mesmerized by something in the distance. Glorfindel shifted between gazing back at the distant half-elf to the Noldo beside him. There was some emotion that Glorfindel could not discern or perhaps it was merely puzzlement in the Noldo's eyes. The wandering Noldor had succeeded in cajoling Elrond to sing for them last night; however, the effect was not what Glorfindel had anticipated. For instead of accepting Elrond as one of them, Gildor's contingent seemed to have silently labeled the peredhel as odd and 'foreign'. There seemed to be a nearly tangible change in their escorts' response to the young elf.

"I will retrieve him." Glorfindel turned his white steed around and parted with the rest of the company. It was dusk settled as they continued their search for a suitable campsite.

"Elrond," Glorfindel called as he approached the Peredhel. The youth appeared totally enthralled by something and visibly startled at Glorfindel's approach. Awe-filled silver eyes turned toward him in surprise.

"Glorfindel?" The Vanya smiled warmly even as he made a mental note to place extra guard on the distracted peredhel.

"You are falling behind. It is safer to keep up." Glorfindel meant to chastise him but fell silent when the young elf turned back to study the woods. "What is so enthralling?"

"Can you hear it?" Genuine amazement rang in the young voice.

"Hear what?"

"The whispers of the downy flakes." Glorfindel took note of the admiration and surprise of his friend like a young adolescent just taking note of something they had never before appreciated. He recalled how awed Elrond had been after his audience with the Valar and announcement of his choice to be counted among the elves. Perhaps these changes were still on going.

"Had you not noticed it before? Is it an effect of the changes you have experienced since your choice?"

"I know not. I can not recall having the luxury of time to enjoy the snow." Elrond admitted.

"In the future, you should seek to change that. There is much to be said for having the time to reflect and take pleasure in the wondrous world that surrounds us." Glorfindel felt his heart surge at the tentative but genuine smile that curved across his friend's face. He had long vowed to try to elicit such reactions from this far to somber youth.

"Yes" Elrond agreed, his spirit buoyed by the simple fact that someone understood.

"But come, let us wait for the safety of Mithlond to indulge further in reflection. Our escort and that strict Teleri would certainly be much chagrinned if we chose to forgo their company." Glorfindel smiled at Elrond's small laugh.

"Yes, as far as Cirulian is concerned some black cloud of danger forever follows me around."

"Yes and I have it on good authority that he is preparing you a space at the center of camp." Glorfindel laughed and coaxed Elrond forward on Braigsûl. "But come, let us get settled. Food is in order for both elf and horse." They set out together. Nearly a mile later they came upon the campsite. Horses were being brushed down and fed, while in the center cooks toiled around a roaring fire. Cirulian greeted them and directed Elrond to one of the tents that had already been constructed. The exhausted peredhel was too tired to protest the special treatment and gratefully disappeared inside. In a glance the Teleri conveyed to Glorfindel his intention to guard Elrond.

"That is agreeable. I will procure some dinner." Glorfindel smiled genuinely, though he was still perplexed by the earlier observations. Gildor's elves were busy ordering the camp and setting the watch. A thin stew was being prepared, but most of the nutrients were supplied by lembas. Once in a while Glorfindel recognized curious glances towards Elrond's tent and he silently thanked Cirulian for standing guard beside it. The wind changed abruptly and Glorfindel reached out with his senses to detect what was amiss. Malevolence – foul wickedness approached and shrieked in dread. Familiar sing-song bird calls framed the distant clamor of hooves.

"To arms!" Glorfindel called out moving quickly to secure his bow and check his armor. "Vanyar drive enemy in this direction! Too arms!" The fire was immediately doused as Gildor and Ivorchith responded.

"Which direction? How far?" Gildor barked out instructions as elves quickly prepared.

"Due east. They approach quickly. We have maybe ten minutes or less." Glorfindel helped push the scattered rocks into a makeshift wall.

"There are no trees here for protection!" Ivorchith yelled as they stocked the tents and supplies behind the barricade. Gildor's trained patrol jumped into a well-tuned routine. Archers readied their arrows and drew their bows. Glorfindel knew that Cirulian and Elrond were situated among the archers but he could not see them in the darkness. The Noldor reacted as one to their Lord Gildor waiting in silence for his command. They could now hear the approaching force. It would be moments before they would rise over the horizon.

"Wait for my command." Gildor called for their guests' benefit. The wait was maddening. Not a sound was uttered as the orcs burst into their field of vision but still they waited, waited until the mass of orcs was in range for the elves arrows to be most effective. A short whistle sounded, initiating a wave of arrows. Wave after wave continued until the orcs broke over the barrier and nearly half of the elven warriors accosted them with swords. Glorfindel heard grunts of pain amidst Gildor's shouts to shore up the line. Even as the Golden warrior was focused on dispatching the orcs in front of him, he sent out careful calls to notify the closing Vanyar force of their position. The golden Vanyar swept in behind the orcs. Their combined forces quickly quashed the remaining enemy.

"'Findel!"

"Orondo on your right!" Glorfindel spun and caught the orc in the side. A deft stroke slit the beast's side as the tall Vanya nearly ran into his friend. Both spun and stood back to back as they assessed the situation. Orondo's signals turned from attack orders to searching for wounded. Gildor's voice carried similar messages to search for fallen elves even as the call went out to secure the perimeter.

"We did not realize your group would be in the area. Word came from Eonwe that a group of the enemy had eluded their net. They have been flushing out remnants of the enemy forces from underground. Prince Ingwion sent us as one of two patrols to secure this area."

"We should see what aid we can provide for the wounded." Glorfindel turned towards the ashen remains of the fire, where a small triage center was being assembled. But it was not Gildor's voice that shouted commands, and tension was evident in the Noldor's stances though they hurried to comply. It took him a few minutes to place the young figure motioning for others to secure hot water and bandages as the elf verbally ranked the seriousness of the wounded. The words were clipped and precise, the confident voice of a Master Healer used to being in charge.

"Cirulian this will need stitches. Control the bleeding with pressure and bandages until I return." Elrond signaled for nearest Vanya to settle his friend down in their triage station oblivious to the shocked looks of the Vanyar and Noldor. The dark haired elf bent to assess his next patient.

"Are there healers among your group?" Glorfindel turned to Orondo. The question brought Orondo out of his surprised stupor. The shocked Vanya had also recognized the healer.

"Not a Master healer but many of us have training in the healing arts. I had not realized that your young charge had studied the healing arts."

"He was the head healer in charge of the Edain healing tents."

"Edain?" Confusion mixed with horror in Orondo's voice.

"Edain and elves are not so different. I am sure he can figure out how to treat elves." Glorfindel's eyes sparkled with mischief. "But I jest. Elrond trained under Master Noenri, Gil-Galad's chief healer. Come let us see what aid we can offer." But Orondo, who had some training in the healing arts, pointed to several of his passing warriors.

"Aid Lord Elrond! He is the most capable healer among us. Ulcále guard the peredhel with your life." The tall Vanya crossed his hand over his heart and bowed slightly to acknowledge the order. Glorfindel moved across the way to assist Gildor for the Noldor appeared ill at ease and stood uncharacteristically alone.

"Has the perimeter been secured?" Glorfindel asked.

"Yes and extra watch assigned." Gildor startled slightly.

"We must hunt for the injured."

"Ivorchith yet lives but sustained an arrow wound." Gildor shuddered. It must have been gruesome.

"Let the healers do their job. We can only do ours." Glorfindel grasped him on the shoulder. "Come let us get rid of these foul remains." The clipped tones of command were as a lifeline helping Gildor to regain his composure.

"We dare not raise a pyre. It would attract more enemies."

"Not now but surely come morning. Lord Orondo was charged to flush out these stray orcs." Gildor nodded suddenly recognizing the golden warriors who were already diligently working. A group were cleaning off swords and recycling arrows.

"Nice blade! Look at this workmanship." One of the Noldo lifted the now clean, familiar blade. Its surface glinted in the firelight.

"Must belong to one of the wounded." Another commented.

"To one of the healers actually." Glorfindel enlightened them as he stepped over to take possession of the precious blade. "It was forged in Gondolin for Earendil's Mother." The other whistled in appreciation as Glorfindel inspected the sword. The well-worn sheath was probably still tied about its owner's waist; however, the owner was concentrating on matters of life and death.

Elves toiled deep into the night scouring the area for survivors and piling enemy remains. Most finally settled down for sleep a few hours before the dawn. Glorfindel settled once he was sure that both Cirulian and Ulcále guarded Elrond, who was oblivious to anything but his patients' well being. Too soon he woke to the sounds of preparation for breaking of fast. He changed into a less rumpled tunic, pulled back on his warm cloak, and stowed the rest of his gear. Gildor stood by the fire sipping tea and staring at the dark figure, who moved among the wounded.

"Just a few days ago, you consoled him and gave him advice. What makes you now uncomfortable?" The golden elf could read a begrudging liking warring with revulsion in Gildor's eyes.

"Yesterday he seemed an elf. But now, it is not that cold, yet he shivers as one of the Edain. He stares off at the snow as if he never before heard its quiet whispered decent. He looks like an elf, yet few elves born in this land have such mental gifts. I witness his hand glow with light as he treated Ivorchith. My gwador (sword brother) would not have survived without the young one's surgical skill." Gildor divulged quietly. "How do you with your stature and knowledge reconcile this?"

"His heart is pure. I am honored to be his friend."

"It is unnatural to mix the kindreds."

"I do not question the will of the One. Only several times have the kindreds mixed and produced offspring. Surely, it is the will of the One."

Xxxxxxxxxx

Cirulian watched in amusement as the dark haired elf put a saddle over his uncooperative steed. The horse snorted in disgust. Normally, elves did not use saddles; however, this one had been specially designed to hold a pack, which the elf was now trying to fasten on. Cirulian could hardly hold in a snort of laughter at the exasperated elf's struggles with the willful horse. Once the task was finally accomplished the elf pleaded with the steed to let him mount, but Braigsûl snorted and blew at the elf's hair.

"You could help the poor elf!" Glorfindel slapped the back of Cirulian's head as he maneuvered his horse around Cirulian's.

"Elrond did you get any sleep last night? When I turned in you were busy suturing Ivorchith's wound."

"Not really." Elrond' sighed in frustration and turned away from Braigsûl. The horse responded by nipping at the elf's long hair and pulling it affectionately. Glorfindel bent and spoke gently to the black stallion.

"I think wise Braigsûl has your best interest at heart. He worries you will doze off and fall from the saddle." Glorfindel turned a concerned gaze at the peredhel. "Those dark circles under your eyes indicate he is correct. Come ride with me for awhile, so you can rest."

"Glorfindel, I am dirty and ripe from not having bathed. It has been far too cold for a such luxuries." Elrond's face colored in embarrassment. Glorfindel had not imagined him to be so self-conscious of his status. Perhaps this new ability to perceive the thoughts of others contributed to this insecurity. In any case, Glorfindel dismissed his awkward mumbles with a wave and extended his hand to help Elrond mount.

"Put your worries aside and rest. You helped many and will soon be enjoying a hot soak in Lindon." He pulled Elrond back to lean against his chest and wrapped his cloak around them both. "Sleep without fear. I am guarding you."

"I know. Thank you." Elrond sighed and relaxed in his friend's arms. Cirulian and Ulcále pulled closer to flank him on either side as the Vanyar gathered around them. The Vanyar elves most closely associated with the Valar and Maiar as their King Ingwë Ingweron, resided on the slopes of Taniqueti. Perhaps this association allowed them to appreciate the diffuse light of the Maia that emanated from the peredhel, for they had readily accepted his mixed heritage as a blessing of the One. Among this supportive, accepting atmosphere, Elrond fell into a deep and refreshing sleep.

"We will press hard today to try to reach the outpost. From there it is but a one day ride to Lindon." Orondo drew up next to Ulcále.

"Thank you for your aid in guarding Elrond. He will be safe in Lindon."

"You will still need to be vigilant for his heritage sets him apart." Orondo turned, cranking his neck to assess the reborn warrior. "At least his coloring favors the Noldor with whom he will reside, but you will forever stand out among them. Yet I hear rumor that you will not return with us to Valinor."

"No my song is needed here."

"Surely you have gone above and beyond your duty. You have already given one life to this cause. I would see you happy."

"I will be happy." Glorfindel shifted the sleeping figure in his arms slightly. He was happy to see that the peredhel slept peacefully and vowed to gently probe Elrond's feelings about his choice and its consequences.


	15. Chapter 15 Rebuilding Mithlond

"I declare this court adjourned." Elros rose. The people scrambled to their feet and bowed. He had enough of these cases. _"Why must everyone come to him for justice?"_ He mused darkly. These proceedings left a hollow ache inside him.

"My Lord?"

"Is that what I am reduced to now! Your Lord? We trained and went on our first patrol together?"

"And now I look like I could be your father. You have both elven and godlike blood." Beleford pointed out. The stark differences between them were a source of discomfort for both, for it only served to highlight Elros' peredhel status.

"Not godlike. Do not elevate me. Remember that Elves and Maiar have carried out deeds so dark that I can not even voice." Elros shuddered as the memories of Sirion flashed before his eyes. He was a little tike fallen in a heap besides his brother. They were like two puppies in a litter except that both shook with silent sobs of terror.

"Elros," Beleford said gently. "There is no shame in being moved by that last case."

"There is nothing a child could do to warrant such punishment." Elros said vehemently.

"We have no law against it." Beleford reminded him. "Yet I think your ruling to remove him from his family and place him with his aunt was just."

"We should have laws to protect the weakest among us from such harm."

"Perhaps you could write them."

"I know nothing about writing laws and dictating judicial precedence."

"You have just set a precedence. You have the time most men do not have to learn the best way to scribe such protections into laws that would withstand the centuries."

"Elrond knows more about those things."

"I do not think so. Your brother studied healing and perhaps he read a little about the law. But you have practical experience from years of weighing the problems of our people. There is time now to gain knowledge of written law, before we leave for Númenor. You could study the laws of the eldar and see how we might change and improve upon their ideas to give a solid foundation for our people."

"You would have me entreat Gil-Galad to borrow his lore masters, jurists, and councilors?"

"A sensible request that he would happily honor."

"You, your son, and a handful of others will take lessons then."

"Is that an order my Lord?" Beleford added cheekily.

"If I am to suffer the title, I may as well give a few orders." Elros clapped his long time friend on the shoulder. "Thank you for lifting my spirits."

"You are most welcome. How is your brother? I heard you received a letter from him today."

"He is slowly recovering and wishes that he could celebrate Yule with us."

"Surely next year."

"I will pressure Gil-Galad into giving his permission. They worry for his welfare and there are always two guards assigned to him, though he has been too distracted to realize this."

"Once he is well."

"Once he is well he may give them the slip and show up on our doorstep." Elros smiled. "I would like to see Glorfindel straggle in days behind him."

"That would make for a good laugh."

"How is Riand?"

"I apologize again for questioning your judgment, my Lord."

"One more my Lord out of you and I will devise a suitable punishment." Elros' eyes twinkled deviously.

"Your appointment breathed new life into my brother."

"Our brother." Elros teased. For Riand and Beleford's parents had all but adopted the peredhel upon their release from Himring. "Riand lost use of his hand not his brain, though yours may have been addled. He had some great ideas for handling the logistics of a head count and keeping track of our population as it grows."

"I did not appreciate how much count of our population would help with the equitable distribution of food. Selina said we have been able to feed many more by shipping the right amount of food to the settlements and eliminating spoilage."

Xxxxxxxx

"You best eat, else I will be accused of starving you." Glorfindel thrust a wrapped waybread into Elrond's newly washed hands. "No excuses. Orondo said you had finished checking on the injured and needed only to rebind Ivorchith's wound."

"Thank you. I have tended Ivorchith and he is in healing sleep." Elrond managed to mumble graciously although the lembas reminded him of the hardship they had endured after Sirion fell. He tried to push the terror of that time to the back of his mind and to focus on his breathing as a way to ward off the inevitable nausea such memories induced. Finally, he settled for an excuse. "I am not really hungry." But Glorfindel would have none of it.

"I find its best to imagine you are eating a savory meal. What would entice your taste buds on this snowy evening?" Glorfindel coaxed as he led Elrond toward the Vanyar part of camp. Orondo and Glorfindel decided that the Peredhel would be better off among those who accepted him.

"A steaming bowl of squash soup." Elrond closed his eyes and imagined the thick burnt orange puree steaming before him. He obediently nibbled a piece of the lembas but almost choked on its flavor.

"Fragrance of allspice and almonds?" Glorfindel handed him a cup of ginger tea, which the Elrond quickly sipped to wash down the waybread.

"Yes, allspice and almonds flavoring coarsely blended carrots and butternut squash." Elrond sipped at the tea again before trying another nibble of waybread. This time the light flavored bread did not cause him to gag. The image of a soup enjoyed with his family displaced the unpleasant memories of lembas. Glorfindel shared stories of his own favorites until Elrond had unwittingly finished the tea and eaten the small square of waybread. Stuffed and contented, the peredhel yawned.

"I think sleep is in order." Glorfindel smiled at his weary charge. "We should reach Lindon mid-morning tomorrow and you can indulge in a long hot soak."

"Good night Glorfindel and thank you." Elrond rose slowly and meandered towards his tent.

Xxxxxxxx

"Your garments are ready, _my Lord."_ Selina sketched a mocking bow. "Shall I announce that the Yule festivities needed to be postponed due to our Sire's inability to eat properly."

"You need to adopt some of your husband's good manners." Elros said indignantly.

"I did not dribbled food down _my_ shirt."

"I had not imagined such an off-colored joke would escape such a lady's lips." Elros feigned seriousness then hugged the woman he thought of as a sister in law. "Thank you for cleaning it."

"You need a wife Elros." She teased.

"In due time." He agreed, though his heart ached slightly at the sight of the gray streaks, which were now woven through the once pure golden locks. How many generations would he outlive? How many of those who he so dearly loved would he bury? "But first there is this speech to begin the Yule festival."

Xxxxxxxx

"Lord Elrond, Lord Glorfindel." The servant bowed. The elf could not be past his majority. "This way please. Rooms have been prepared for you in the palace."

"Close your mouth. You will need to learn to act as a lord." Glorfindel's teasing whisper was closely followed by a loud announcement. "Lord Elrond and I sorely need a bath. We have been on the road for days." The page stopped and blinked at the Vanya.

"Oh, of course, follow me."

"May we borrow some clean garments?" Elrond was painfully aware of how his other garments stank.

"I will bring some from your rooms."

"My rooms?"

"The Queen took great care preparing for your arrival." The page pointed to the baths. "Here we are my Lords." Elrond and Glorfindel graciously thanked him and disappeared inside what was obviously a public bath. Several bathers were already soaking and the attendant handed them buckets, soap, and towels. They stripped off their attire and filled their buckets with hot water. Elrond chose a corner spot away from the bathers and began to thoroughly scrub off the week of grime, rinsing several times before turning his attention to his hair.

"My, you are slow for a Noldo. You will catch your death of cold if you do not hurry." Glorfindel teased from the steaming pool, where he lounged contentedly. The other bathers blanched at these words then slowly and discreetly began to exit the pool, toweling off and donning robes. By the time Elrond slipped into the water, it was only the two of them. The peredhel hissed at the heat and closed his eyes. Glorfindel grinned at the sight of his friend so obviously enjoying himself.

"What are you staring at Vanya?" Elrond voice wavered slightly as one eye opened warily.

"It is nice to see you enjoying yourself." Glorfindel smiled and moved over to his friend where his friend sat, obviously uneasy about their nakedness.

"What?" Elrond started to question as Glorfindel dipped a small hand towel into the pool and then rang it out tightly.

"You will like this, trust me. Lay your head back on the ledge." Glorfindel's order earned him a hard glare, but Elrond closed his eyes and leaned back on the ledge. Glorfindel slid the heated towel over Elrond's closed eyes and forehead.

"Hot," Elrond hissed.

"It will do you some good. Better than any healing tea."

"And you know this how?"

"Quiet, just enjoy the heat of the water."

Xxxxxxxx

"Noenri!" Celeborn embraced his long time friend. Celeborn and Noenri had both matured in Elu Thingol's kingdom.

"I was shocked to hear of the attack on the Yavannildi. I would have come sooner. But they refused me transport."

"As well they should. You look terrible - worn out and strained."

"Here I thought I was beginning to recover." Noenri said even as he scrutinized his old friend. "At least this time all the effort was for victory." Both paused for a moment of silence for those lost in the tragedy that was Doriath, though they would never broach the horrific subject aloud.

"How is she?"

"Resting."

"Galadriel resting!" It had been months since the attack. Now Noenri knew the truth.

"It was a near thing." Celeborn's voice shook. "But she is on the mend."

"And you?" But there was no reply to Noenri's query, so he tried a different tactic. "The healers released her?"

"She would take no more of Tarwatirno's heavy handed attitude." The admission made Noenri laugh. He had more than his share of disagreements with Finarfin's haughty chief healer.

"I fear these lands have changed your lady. For all she would like to see her family again, I doubt she could survive a year under the rules there." He watched a smile slowly curve Celeborn's lips.

"Thrice I had to steal her away to the safety of the trees. I do believe she would soon tire of the stone palaces of Tirion unless injury hindered her escape."

"You will not remain long in Mithlond."

"Both our hearts long for the forest, as does Oropher's. We will return here often to aid Ereinion, but our dream is to make our home in the forest canopy."

"Once you are both well," Noenri astutely noted. "You will wander far together taking in the wonder of these lands. Perhaps the Lady will consent to reveal her injuries to me."

"Talking would ease her spirit. But I doubt, from the look of you, that either of us would consent to you resuming to your healing duties."

"All our spirits have suffered in this age of war. But victory is ours as is the time necessary for healing."

Xxxxxxxxx

"Elrond!" Gil-Galad embraced him then pulled back to scrutinize him more thoroughly. The timing was unfortunate, for the King was on his way to council. It was mere chance that they had met in the hallway. "You seem to be on the road to recovery. The healer wrote me that a short stay away from the woods might to you good. No duties! Just rest." Elrond stiffened at the statement.

"I am not an invalid Ereinion. Surely, I can be of some help here." Elrond's voice was tinged with frustration. Ereinion smiled and rubbed the dark hair in a manner he knew Elrond found most annoying. He laughed at the dark look with which he was rewarded.

"No, I would not risk your health." He put on his most series mien and held back a smile at the irate whistle that escaped Elrond's lips. "I have been justly chastised from not taking better care of you. Unfortunately, I must dash to a council meeting. Indiriel will return this evening. Go relax and we will dine together later." He turned towards the guard. "Show Lord Elrond to his rooms neighboring the royal suite."

Xxxxxxxxx

Elrond moved out to the balcony pulling his cape tightly around him. One of the changes from the old palace was that the royal rooms were now situated on the second floor for added safety. He looked out into what would some day be a garden; however, only a lone oak stood in the center, its bark still sported signs of the fire that had swept through these lands. He could see sticks and string that formed outlines to what would be flowerbeds, once spring warmed the earth. Tears leaked uncontrollably down Elrond's face and he could not answer when Glorfindel called from the bedroom.

"I am going down to see Orondo. I will see you later." The bright voice called from the distance. It echoed in Elrond's ears and finally died away.

"_So many good people lost. So many nameless folk willingly paid the ultimate sacrifice to save this world from Morgoth. So many valiant men and elves, who toiled to forge weapons, reap wheat, make bread, build wagons, forge shelters, and tend horses. The list went on and on. They died in battle or ambushed in their homes or betrayed by those who should be their allies."_ He shuddered at the memories. "_Yet without fail another took their place in the battle for freedom. These brave souls were part of the earth now." _Thwack! Sounds from afar roused him from his grief. He looked across the gardens and discerned movement in the distance. There were wheel barrels and piles of rock. He squinted to see masons and workers struggling with a heavy load. These elven eyes could see further than before. It was strange to deal with all these changes. The wind caressed his hair. Its song questioning and caring. His unspoken desire was somehow communicated. A little whirlwind distracted the centuries, who stood guard in the garden devoid of flowers. He hoisted himself over the ledge, carefully climbing down until he dared to jump the last eight feet. They failed to notice him crossing the grounds and soon he was on the path that crossed to the industrious masons.

"A messenger from the Edain?" The foreman's tone was one of surprise. Elrond shrugged non-committally. His hair was hidden behind his unusual hat. It was only reasonable that the elf assume he was one of the Edain.

"Could you use an extra set of hands?"

"Do you have any experience in masonry?"

"No, but I take directions well." The mason spent several moments considering the offer then nodded.

"Help Amarchrist unload the stones."

Xxxxxxxxx

"Master Noenri!" Glorfindel embraced the Master Healer. "You have returned. Are you well?"

"Much better, thank you." The healer automatically replied though Glorfindel could see the strain in his eyes.

"But not fully recovered I see."

"It takes time. I will take it day by day. I think it is the same with you." The healer squinted at him. "We have set up support groups to help reach out to the many who suffer from battle fatigue. It will take time to reintegrate people after so many years of war. Do you still suffer nightmares and flashbacks?" The healer knew that the Glorfindel occasionally lapsed into the terror of the past.

"Much less frequently. Elrond woke me the last time it happened."

"I am glad to hear. How is Elrond?"

"I think his stay among the Avari has done much to aid the mending of his spirit. But it was difficult to be a lone peredhel among such an insular people."

"Shall we go to see him?"

Xxxxxxxxx

"What do you mean that he is missing?" Gil-Galad's voice rose in anger. His Seneschal suppressed a shudder. "Do we not have a watch posted?"

"I assigned a personal guard for Elrond. He did not leave his room through the door." Tarest returned. The royal guard had been on high alert ever since the incident with the Yavannildi, for the King would not have his Queen placed at risk again. The Lady Galadriel's warning concerning the Peredhel was also utmost in his mind.

"Did you speak with him about the guard?"

"He was newly arrived and we were under the impression that he would be resting."

"You have organized a search?"

"Lord Glorfindel took several guards with him. He asked for some time to locate the youth before we initiate a serious search."

Xxxxxxxxx

"We have accomplished much this day." The foreman announced. "I think all have earned a good meal and a rest."

"If a good meal was possible!" Amarchrist turned to his helper and said good-naturedly. "If all men equally hard-working, we elven builders would soon be displaced. I think your Númenor will become a fine nation."

"I thank you for your compliments." Elrond returned and gave a humble bow.

"If you seek to relieve the monotony of your business here with another honest days work, seek us out again."

"I will good Sir. It was a pleasure meeting you." Elrond turned to take his leave, but nearly collided with Cirulian.

"Perhaps a bath is in order before you meet with the Lord this evening." The Teleri's face betrayed nothing and neither did he reveal Elrond's true identity to the workers. Elrond stood speechless. The Teleri guard did not miss a beat and gently steered Elrond away by the arm. Once they were out of earshot he chastised Elrond.

"I think our Lord and King is ready to hear your report."

"I was not given any assignments." Elrond returned softly.

"You were not expected to require one." Cirulian returned as he led the Peredhel to one of the communal baths in the palace. Its lack of occupants reflected the late afternoon hour. It would be awhile before the private baths would be completed in the royal wing. Cirulian stood guard at the door while Elrond hurried to wash. Once clean, he borrowed a robe and followed Cirulian to his room. Ornate garments and a slim mithril circlet were arranged on the bed. He quickly dressed and braided his hair, fingering the circlet but not donning it.

"My Lord, your presence is requested at dinner in the Great Hall." A new voice called. It was Gil-Galad's Seneschal Tarest, he noted belatedly as he followed a page to the Hall. They were stopped outside.

"Lord Elrond," One of the servants bowed. "You are to wait here until you are announced. Please have a seat until it is time." He nodded and tried not to squirm in the extravagant clothing.

"Elrond! You have lost weight again. I shall have to summon the tailors to alter your clothing!" Indiriel embraced the surprised elf, who mumbled apologetically.

"You led your guard on a merry chase." Gil-Galad was regally attired as he embraced the dear Peredhel.

"I did not know I was under house arrest." Elrond quipped and dodged a good natured swipe.

"You conveniently forgot your circlet." Gil-Galad produced the simple mithril band, which he had been gifted to Elrond upon his majority celebration. Elrond blushed as he set the circlet on his head.

"If you are recovered enough to aid in construction, then you can surely agree to a request from your King." Gil-Galad teased as he straightened Elrond's tunic. But before he could ask more, the Herald announced the royal couple. The King and Queen turned to enter the Great Hall leaving the stunned Peredhel gaping in their wake. Many more elves were ushered into the Hall until the page turned to Elrond.

"It is time for your entrance my Lord." Elrond rose and moved to the doorway, taking in the view of the now filled Hall. His heart nearly stopped when he heard the next announcement. This one was voiced by none other than Aran Gil-Galad. The King and Queen stood together at the head table.

"It is our pleasure to announce the ceremonial role of torch bearer and emissary of the Valar for the Solstice ritual. We bestow this honor on one of beloved Elu Thingol's line, I present to you the son of Lord Eärendil and Lady Elwing, Lord Elrond Eärendilion." Cirdan watched proudly as the young Peredhel followed the attendant through applauding crowd. The elf was richly adorned and walked upright, his well manner demeanor set with a simple dignity and tinged with shock that was noticeable only to those who knew him well. The attendant led him to a seat at one of the tables that surrounded the table of Kings. Many of the elves gathered had yet to glimpse the elusive Peredhel, for few had seen him since before the war. Elves strained to see the exotic royal figure, who bowed low towards the King and Queen and then sat down. Aran Gil-Galad welcomed his guests and then the leading figures at the head table Aran Finarfin, Prince Ingwion, and Lord Cirdan rose. Together with Gil-Galad they led those assembled in a prayer to the Valar.

"_The crowd notices there is no King of the Sindar to help lead the prayers."_ Galadriel noted silently to her husband. They were both at the head table, but poignantly seated.

"_I do not seek to fill that position." _Celeborn returned. He was happy that his wife felt well enough to attend the festivities. She had slept much of the afternoon following her talk with Noenri.

"_I did not mean to imply that. I only interpret the rush of emotions from the_ _crowd. Perhaps Oropher will fill this role." _

"_Many will follow him but many will not."_ He predicted.

"_Ereinion's move to honor Elrond highlights his suitability to fill that role. He bestowed the honor to as a sign of his claim on the Peredhel. A public announcement serves as a warning to those who might seek to harm him."_

"_Will it work?"_

"_I believe it may."_

"_Though the claim of a Noldoran King of lordship over Elu's descendant all but guarantees that our people will not embrace the Peredhel as their Lord."_

"_I think was unlikely even without Ereinion's claim; however much this child of Elwing resembles our beloved Lúthien."_ Galadriel savored a bite of the potato leek soup. Everyone received a cup, a veritable feast considering the lean times. Lembas were arranged in the center of the table and glasses of watered wine sparkled festively.

"_The resemblance grows stronger as the years pass."_ Celeborn watched the peredhel savor the soup. The youth's seat at a table populated by Gil-Galad's council was no accident, although it was likely a source of discomfort to the youth. _"He is to have a full seat on Ereinion's council."_

"_He is the most knowledgeable at dealing with the Edain." _Galadriel smiled slightly. _"It is a bit ironic. Ereinion will need his council to understand their needs as they prepare for their departure."_

"_The others will not take kindly to such a young elf receiving full status among them."_

"_By they will not be overtly discourteous."_

_"At least not in front of their King."_

Xxxxxxxxx

After dinner, Glorfindel helped Elrond change into the ceremonial garb. Songs and prayers rose from the courtyard, where thousands were now assembling for the festival of lights.

"Why me?" Elrond's voice was nearly a whine as Glorfindel did up the buttons on the back of the tunic.

"Must I remind you that you are the son of the great Mariner who helped change the tides of the war by slaying the vicious dragon Ancalagon?" Glorfindel's teasing tone merely deepened Elrond's dark mood.

"There are other elves far more worthy."

"You would second guess your King? It is a great honor and displays Gil-Galad's regard. You should be properly solicitous." He left unspoken that by naming Elrond to carry the Yule torch, Gil-Galad sent a clear wordless message of his high regard and protectiveness towards this son of Eärendil. Glorfindel hoped that this would be enough to prevent Galadriel's vision from coming to pass.

"I do not wish to be on display in front of all." Elrond divulged quietly.

"It is merely another skill you need to learn. You already display great ability as a healer and your brother and his contingent valued your council and strategic skills very highly. Besides you need to learn these things. Perhaps someday you will be the leader and will need to perform the ceremony for your people."

"I think not." Elrond scoffed at the proposal as Glorfindel stood back and scrutinized his friend's appearance. Then the Vanya intoned the ceremonial words.

"On this night we welcome as one the new light in hope, in friendship, and in love. We remember this night the great gift of light bestowed by Ilúvatar with the first rising of the sun."

"I believe I can handle a single sentence and carry a torch." Elrond sighed but Glorfindel glared at him.

"Your queue is the first rising of the sun. Then you say."

"The sacred fire burns brightly to fuel life."


	16. Chapter 16 Connections

"Are you warm enough?" Celeborn whispered as he fixed the blankets around his beloved and pulled her securely in his arms. Indiriel had arranged comfortable seats for them with a spectacular view of the festival of lights. She pivoted slightly on his lap and kissed the junction where his neck met his shoulder.

"I am well beloved." Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "Well enough to desire an early departure from the festivities."

"That well?" He leaned forward to kiss her full on the lips. The crowd was too enthralled by the torch lighting ceremony to notice anything but he nearly gasped when she opened her lips and ardently returned his kiss, for it was rare that they indulged in a public place. The ancient chant swelled around them before he released her breathlessly.

"Indeed." Galadriel whispered.

Xxxxxxxx

Once his ceremonial duties were over, Elrond found himself swept up by the crowd. He could feel palpable fear and confusion from strangers who suddenly realized his identity, but no one addressed him. Thus it was disconcerting when he was accosted by a dark haired elf. Elrond hesitated to answer the peculiar elf. But, surely he was safe here among those who had gathered for the solstice festival. And yet - he sensed waves of anguish, anger, and other unidentifiable emotions, emanating from the dark eyes.

"I am Elrond Earendilion."

"I know who you are." The words were bit off, edgy, and deliberately provoking.

"I am sorry but I do not recall meeting you. Have I wronged you in some way?"

"Yes … and no." The elf turned away from the to silver eyes, to hide his desire to inflict some of the pain he felt on this ellon, who looked too much like his beloved. It was the eyes that mocked him, for they were as mithril, sparkling and full of life, life that his love had thrown away. Her words echoed in his head. _"How have I wronged you? I am sorry, but I do not think of you in that way." _ The dagger in his tunic itched closer to his aching hand. His dark self-conscious mocked. _"They were true and noble elves. But they were all dead now. Here is my chance to wipe the pity and sympathy off __Lúthien's_ _visage. Those eyes had flashed at him in anger at his betrayal. Twice you betrayed her." _ But these eyes of Lúthien showed only confusion and the cheekbones sported some harder lines that spoke of the second born. He had chosen this one as the easier target. This twin appeared weaker than his brother. His hand stroked the hilt of the knife inside his cloak. This one he could dispatch. He had the element of surprise. Had not a small dwarf sent his great King to Mandos' Hall? _"This one is innocent, but he is a mockery of her flesh and blood. "_

"I would rethink your actions Sindar." A strong hand grasped halted the movement of his own as it grasped his arm. Cirulian held on silently as Glorfindel simultaneously moved to distract the Peredhel.

"Elrond, I found them. Come this way."

"What?" Had the situation been different Cirulian might have laughed at the confusion in the youth's voice.

"Who?" Glorfindel smiled and employed the gentle art of distraction. His stance was calm and his mood joyous. "Erestor and his family are waiting. We shall need to make our way to him through this crowd, for he is still in no state to walk such distances."

"Still?" Elrond's concern was instant and displaced all thought of the odd encounter. Cirulian waited until he was sure they were out of earshot before addressing the suspicious elf.

"A Teleri guarding that mongrel!" The elf's derogatory title was bitten off into a cry of pain as Cirulian wrenched the dagger from his hand.

"It is with great pride that I guard our Prince. You will come with us." Cirulian and Durgin led the elf discreetly away, not wishing to draw attention away from the festivities.

Xxxxxxxxx

"Here we are." Glorfindel announced joyously as unceremoniously maneuvered Elrond through the crowd. The youth seemed to grimace at times. _"Was he sensing other people's thoughts?" _Glorfindel mused. He had not heard anything said aloud that was either derogatory or complimentary towards the peredhel. No, people did not know what to think about the peredhil and therefore held their tongues.

"Erestor! No need to stand up. How are you feeling?" The healer was immediately concerned at seeing his friend's weary demeanor. Erestor was cocooned in a warm quilt, his feet were elevated on a neighboring chair, but his eyes lit up upon seeing his friend.

"Elrond you look like a Prince now!" Erestor smiled, but Elrond reacted uncharacteristically, grimacing and turning away. Erestor caught the softly muttered phrase.

"I thought you were my friend." Elrond failed to hide his unease. Erestor reacted quickly to catch Elrond's hand.

"It is my honor and good fortune to count you as a dear friend." Erestor met the uncertain silver eyes with a warm smile. "Please come sit by me and tell about your stay in the forest. It seems that Calimdriel and Orodiun have their hearts set on having their wedding ceremony there. You must tell us what to expect! Was their culture much different?"

"Orodiun and his brothers are much liked among the Avari. I expect you will all be warmly welcomed." Erestor did not catch what was omitted but Glorfindel did. The Vanya's heart ached at the unspoken loneliness.

"Best wishes for a joyous New Year." Niphendriel light touch startled him from his thoughts. He turned to raise her hand to his lips.

"The coming year is sure to bring joy as we celebrate the uniting of your house with Oropher's. Where is the betrothed pair?" Glorfindel looked around curiously.

"They are dancing and have yet to sit out a song." Niphendriel laughed. Glorfindel considered his charge, who was deep in conversation with Erestor. He signaled the guards assigned to the Peredhel to keep a close watch.

"Perhaps we could join them?"

"Is that your way to invite a Lady to dance?" Niphendriel smiled.

"I would be delighted if you chose to join me for a dance." Glorfindel bowed and extended his arm to her.

"It is my pleasure."

Xxxxxxxxx

The festival continued through the night and well into the next day. Cirdan had thought to check on Elrond sooner. When he at last located Glorfindel, the Vanya informed him that their young friend was safely ensconced in his rooms. The Mariner meandered there once the crowd dispersed. It was quiet in the royal living area. Receiving no response to his knock, Cirdan slowly opened the door. The sight before him touched his heart. There at the desk, fingering books, sat Elrond. Tears streamed down his cheek.

"Elrond?" The youth bowed his head in response to Cirdan's greeting. Although his unbound hair now hid his face, the Mariner could feel the despair that radiated from the figure.

"So little…perhaps if I had done more…"

"Shhh young one." Cirdan pulled the trembling figure into his arms. "You fought bravely and helped save many lives."

"Not enough." Grief, weariness, and self-recrimination were present in those few words.

"The war is over but the healing remains." The Mariner's voice was soft with sympathy. The adjustments of the coming years were not going to be easy ones. "You are of the elves. This is your home."

"What am I that so many despise me?" The quiet voice betrayed turmoil and self-loathing. Cirdan realized that the youth, barely of age would have to first learn to accept and love himself before he could truly deal with the consequences of his choice.

"You need to explore who you are and what you are becoming, young prince. If you respect and love yourself, others will respect you as well."

"Many will never accept."

"Not everyone will be a friend. No matter who you are. Some accept me. Some dislike me. But they respect and honor my role as leader of the Teleri. So it will be with you." A poignant silence led Cirdan to broach upon his reason for seeking out the youth. "I spoke to Glorfindel and Gildor. It would be my honor to teach you of these mental gifts from the One. You should not have to suffer hearing the unguarded thoughts of others." The most appropriate lessons based on a shared gift should have passed from Dior to Elwing to Elrond. Alas, fates conspired to deprive even Elwing of such teachings.

Xxxxxxxxx

"Elrond performed admirably for one who typically shuns the spotlight."

"He did it out of love for us. He would never dream of disappointing you." Indiriel preempted her husband softly. "But I fear these years of transition will be fraught with danger and we may lose him."

"Lose him?"

"I fear he will flee, preferring to hid himself away from the many who hold him in contempt for things beyond his control."

"Do not fear. We will care for him. I will check on him tomorrow." Ereinion promised as he guided his wife to their suite. The rest of their evening would be spent reveling in each other's company.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"Cirdan?" Gil-Galad was astonished to see the old Mariner reading books by candlelight in Elrond's room. The young Peredhel seemed to be sleeping soundly. Cirdan had obviously tucked the blankets securely around him. The Mariner looked up from his studies and motioned for silence. Rising, he selected several books from the shelf before leading Gil-Galad from the room.

"Dawn already?" The Mariner stretched slightly as he closed the door behind them.

"Is Elrond well?"

"He is tired for I worked long with him last night. But, let us talk further in your study, so as not to be disturbed." Gil-Galad nodded and they walked back along the corridor. Indiriel and he had agreed to have Elrond's rooms located in the family section of the palace, in a small alcove that jutted away from their wing.

"Gwathloth would you please send breakfast to my study."

"Gladly my King." The maid curtsied and hurried off.

"The youth performed well at the ceremony."

"Yes," laughed Gil-Galad. "I expected no less, little though he liked the scrutiny. He actually complained at my insistence that he be addressed as Lord."

"What does he have against the title?"

"I believe he would state that it is unearned." Gil-Galad smiled wryly. "Although his actions during the war have more than proven him worthy of the title."

"It is good that he was born here and not in Aman where society is rigidly tiered by rank." Cirdan exclaimed.

"Yet in Aman he would be one of many younger Princes surrounded by a loving family. Here he will soon be the sole survivor of many houses. He has lost much already and stands to lose yet more."

"You have claimed him for your House."

"The Sindar were not pleased. But we love him dearly and he needs a home. Indiriel worries we may still lose him."

"He loves you both too much to stay away for long. His spirit recovers slowly, though he faces a difficult adjustment. He will need to come to terms with who he is. We both know the brothers thought their days on Arda would be numbered in mere centuries."

"So many nights have I chastised him that he pushes himself too hard, trying to catch up to his elven peers so many years his senior."

"I am guessing he muttered something about it being his obligation to use the talents that Eru has given him to the fullest in the short time gifted to him." Cirdan fingered the top book in the pile.

"Yes, his 'duty' as he put it to do all he could for others in the time allotted to him." Gil-Galad scrutinized his friend as the maid arrived with their breakfast and poured out the tea. "I doubt Elrond gave you leave to peruse his manuscripts."

"We talked a long while."

"You mean you talked and attempted to cajole him into revealing his thoughts."

"He keeps his feeling hidden more so than most." Sighing Cirdan handed Gil-Galad one of the texts. "You should read these poems. They were not at all what I expected from our serious friend. They date from before our last campaign. I think they would bring hope and purpose to many, were you able to convince him to allow them to be copied. Perhaps they could be published under pseudonym so none could directly attribute them to him."

"Poetry?" Gil-Galad repeated in a stunned voice. "Elrond? I would have never guessed."

"If I were not so familiar with his script, I might not have believed; however, it is clearly written by one who has known much trauma and strives to create a better world. Grief is powerful and closely held but juxtaposed with a hope for the future and a deep need to seek out good. Elves might guess the author to be of this generation - one who has known constant war and strife in their childhood. But it has a unique view and ingenuity that is hard to describe. Read it. It will bring solace to your heart." Cirdan watched as Gil-Galad fingered the book's cover.

"His actions and altruism inspire those around him. I would expect no less of his manuscripts. I have lost count of their number."

"Close to twenty, shockingly enough. But it is my perception of his attitude towards himself that makes me uneasy."

"He has always disregarded his own well being." Gil-Galad paused momentarily. "Does he keep a journal?"

"None that I could find and I looked carefully. There are four books not fully completed that date from the final campaign. We will be hard pressed to convincing him to eschew duties and take time to explore his own interests."

"None tell his feelings?"

"No and that concerns me. Three texts are medically oriented. They describe surgeries and contagious illnesses of the Edain. One documents the medicinal plants used by the Avari, while another describes caves and caverns in that area."

"An elf exploring underground caves?"

"Yes, the text is quite engaging and well illustrated. However, if you read between the lines, his stay in the forest was a lonely one. Luckily the connections to nature facilitated the healing process."

"I thought to send him with Niphendriel and her family in the summer. Oropher wants his son wedding to take place in the forest."

"That would be fitting. It would be good for Elrond to be in the company of friends." Cirdan watched Gil-Galad's face brighten. "You have an idea."

"We need to reestablish a center for learning. Before the war we had only small schools for learning, and many of those teachers are scattered or dead. We could assign Elrond to aid Pengolodh and Merwen in the planning process.

"Pengolodh?"

"They are aware of Elrond's talents and promise as a scholar. In fact, Elrond served as an apprentice to Merwen and wrote many of Merwen's briefings. Merwen is a consummate teacher. He will discreetly adjust Elrond's duties according to his talents and interests. Besides, I think the earned title of Master of Lore or Master of Healing would hold far greater appeal for Elrond. Although I find it hard to reconcile such talents with his deadly skill with the sword."

"A brilliant solution! He is distracted by the on going changes resulting from his choice. It is unlikely he will realize that he is being subtly manipulated into taking time to discover his own interests. Schedule in regular trips to see Elros under the auspicious title of "ambassador" and we can satisfy his insatiable desire to help while making sure he spends precious time with his brother."

"I should be thankful that he is so diligent and hard-working." Gil-Galad laughed. "I have no doubt that he will become my most trusted Councilor."

Xxxxxxxxx

Indiriel risked resting her hand on the elder King's arm in comfort. Tears streaked unabashedly down the noble cheeks, his heart obviously breaking anew as his eyes took in the paintings.

"Maengwen is a master. She painted portraits of your sons in Nargothrond. I thought you and Lady Eärwen would enjoy having the originals. I've commissioned reproductions be made for the planned galleries of Mithlond and for Galadriel."

Finarfin whispered reply was inaudible as he moved closer to study the depiction of his firstborn. The engraving on the frame declared "Finrod, King of Nargothrond" and held neither his father name nor his birth name. "Findaráto, my little son no longer but a King in his own right." Finarfin whispered. Many had greeted Finarfin with reverence not due to his own status, but simple out of respect for him as the Father of the legendary King of Nargothrond. Men spun impossible tales of their beloved "Nom" (Wise). The artist had captured the generous yet bold spirit of his beloved son. The clothing had the elaborate decorations of the Noldor but tempered with Sindarin influences. He was surprised to see the telltale beads that marked warrior braids and knew that this was not the same elf who left Aman. No, this was a leader tempered by much trial, who cared greatly for his people.

"My heart tells me that I will see him soon. I pray that he will be released from Lorien after my return to Eldamar."

"It would give your daughter much solace to know at least one of her beloved brothers were among the living. Do you have word of this?"

"The Valar will not divulge such information. Yet Glorfindel's reaction when we met gives me reason to hope. He could not stop staring at me as if he had known me well before, yet I had never met the elf." As Indiriel compared the portrait of the son with the father a smile crept across her face.

"You do look much alike. I pray that Findaráto now awaits you in the Gardens of Lorien."

"That is my hope as well." Finarfin covered Indiriel's hand with his own. "Thank you dear child. These portraits will be treasured. They will help us understand the people my children became. That knowledge will be invaluable if we are blessed enough for the Valar to return them. Perhaps we could also commission a reproduction of Orodreth's family with Finduilas and a young Ereinion. Eärwen would also enjoy seeing a picture of the young King and Queen of the Noldor in Endor." Indiriel blushed at Finarfin's gaze. "Is this Maengwen still to be found?"

"I have already sent word to her to join us in Mithlond."

"Perhaps she could also paint a portrait of my daughter and her husband. She may also know of other artists who could render portraits of Earendil's sons. When I next greet Elwing and Earendil, I would like to gift them portraits to go along with my stories about their sons. The Valar may have forbidden them from stepping ashore on this land, but it is my hope that we may yet convince them to allow a visit to the Isle of Númenor."

_Xxxxxxxxx Sewing and healing xxxxxxxxX_

"_Never would I have thought guards would stand alert over a sewing circle."_ Niphendriel hands shook slightly as she set her sewing bag down and gathered the luxurious fabric to make a tunic for her son. Her daughter's wedding gown would require but one more fitting in the spring. Raising her eyes, she realized that the Queen was regarding her steadily. But before either could say anything, there was a knock at the door.

"Galadriel! How wonderful for you to join us!" Indiriel rose to embrace her husband's great Aunt. "Are you well?"

"I am recovering." Galadriel smiled and returned the hug. "And am happy to announce other visitors to the group. Oropher's Ladies are gracing our group this afternoon." She drew out the small golden elleth who clung to her. "I have the pleasure of introducing Lady Aurmîr." The young elleth curtsied politely to the Queen while the Lady of Light glided across the room in a glamour of silk and elegance, without a hint of weakness to those who did not know her well, though she took a seat very quickly.

"Lady Aurmîr, it is such a pleasure to see you are whole and well. You are a brave elleth." Indiriel kissed Oropher's daughter's head. "Is your Naneth here?"

"And Daernaneth (Grandmother)." The elfling softly responded. Moments later, Lady Gellir and her sister entered, followed by Lady Arvethil, Oropher's Mother.

"What a wonderful surprise!" Indiriel rose to greet them. These were some of the few remaining Ladies of Elu Thingol's court. There had been some animosity at first, when Gil-Galad originally sought to ally all remaining free people against Morgoth, for the survivors of Doriath and Sirion eschewed the Noldor, even though the Noldor directly responsible for the kinslaying were the Feanorians of Himring and not those who eventually pledged their loyalty to Gil-Galad in Balar and later in Mithlond. "I had heard you would depart for the forests."

"The forest is our home not a Noldor city of stone." Lady Arvethil returned sharply.

"As it should be." Indiriel returned warmly without any hint of offense as she moved her hand over her heart. "And Eru willing it will be a safe and lovely home for many ages to come. Yet you are always welcome here." Lady Arvethil was taken aback by the unpretentious nature of Gil-Galad's Queen and Gellir stepped up quickly to greet her friend.

"It is good to see you."

"Were you as troubled by dark dreams as I?" Indiriel admitted softly.

"I was as were many." Gellir still thanked Oropher for being her strength and support against the dark dreams.

"Master Noenri suggests we find a way to help the many who are struggling with the aftermath of the war, especially those who suffer from battle fatigue. We face similar difficulties, whether we settle here, or on the coast or in the forest. Perhaps, together we can come up with strategies to help ease the transition."

_Xxxxxxxxx Council xxxxxxxxX_

"Gildor estimates that we would need twice as many buildings to house the war orphans." Merwen reported.

"How are the buildings progressing?" Gil-Galad inquired.

"The first building should be completed by mid-spring, my Lord. I have sent Queen Indiriel's invitations to those most in need. Glirthon has begun to gather them in the tents we vacated."

"Merwen is there space between the current housing and the planned institutes for learning?"

"Possibly, my King. Masters Pengolodh and Noenri are drawing up plans that for their specific schools. We should have their concrete suggestions by the next council meeting."

"It would seem wise to defer this discussion until that time."

"Next on the agenda is the appointment of new council members to fill the positions vacated by Celongar and Sadron." Tarest turned to his King. "Aran Gil-Galad favors the appointment of Lord Elrond Earendilion as ambassador to the Edain and as an alternate member of this council."

"The child is barely of age!" Lord Ferchíl one of the eldest of the council members objected.

"Lord Elrond fought bravely and has more than proven his worth as a healer."

"He has no experience, my Lord."

"We would argue that he does." Tarest interjected. "He lived and fought with the Edain contingent. They hold him in high esteem as a strategist, organizer, and Master Healer."

"How can you be sure his loyalties lie with the elves?"

"Of that there is no question." Gil-Galad's tone halted any arguments. "Now we would hear nominations for the other vacancies."


	17. Chapter 17 Hearts and Minds

"Up! Up!" The toddler cried.

"Can you hold Liza for a moment? Halverad should return soon." Young Analise was now a harried Mother with a jealous toddler clinging to her leg. Their daughter was somewhat of a shock and Selina had scolded her to be more careful this time, for it was not fitting to wean a child as early as she had needed to.

"It is not a problem." Elros smiled as he took the crying newborn from her hands. The perfect little fingers were balled up into fists. Elros rose and swayed gently as he crossed to the window. The snow had melted though it was still bitterly cold this night. A lullaby, long thought forgotten, flowed from his lips as he recalled a dark haired woman whose eyes spoke of love. The baby quieted and snuggled contentedly against his neck. Outside the moon caressed the shapes of the village with its silver light. A family made their way towards the house. He recognized Mikeal and shook with quiet laughter at the way his two sons were pushing and punching each other whenever they thought their father was not looking. They wisely remained several steps behind their parents and Halverad. The boys were now nine and eleven he recalled, then shivered with cold as the memory of his own tenth year hovered darkly. _"The war was won. This is time to rejoice."_ He looked down at Liza's peaceful visage. The babe was beautiful even with her wisps of hair. A tear slipped down his cheek. A door closed. Another tear followed in a gentle cascade. Soon he would be in Númenor with only memories of his family to cling to. He heard voices in the background but continued to stare resolutely out the window. It was not fit that a man soon to be King should cry.

"Analise how are you?" Erzsi, Mikeal's wife, asked as the family entered. But Analise did not reply. Had Elros turned he would have seen her put her fingers to her lips.

"Ah, your legs are unencumbered. Our son must be sleeping." Halverad kissed her.

"Drowsing but not yet sleeping." Analise whispered. Mikeal led his sons into the kitchen. The sway of the door spread succulent smells of burgundy stew.

"Selina it smells heavenly." Erzsi praised. "Please let me prepare the table while you take a well earned break from the hearth."

"Thank you Elros." Analise motioned for the babe. Elros wordlessly relinquished the sleeping child to her arms.

"My treasure." Analise breathed softly as she cradled her little girl. She settled on the couch, oblivious to everything but the small delight in her arms.

"You will have a family of your own to treasure someday." Selina hugged Elros from behind.

"I lost mine. What if." He turned into the comforting hug.

"You have not lost Elrond. You will never lose him." Selina whispered. Beleford was suddenly there to embrace them both. He and his wife both worried about their friend.

"And when you meet the right woman, you will know and you will build a life and family together in joy." Beleford said.

"Oh, my dear husband, I have made a romantic out of you after all." Selina kissed him.

"Come, the natives are clamoring for dinner." They led Elros into the kitchen. "Surely, next month you could escape to Mithlond to visit Elrond for a time. You wanted to consult with King Gil-Galad anyway, a good excuse that would satisfy the council."

"I will pack him some food! Your brother does not look after himself."

_Xxxxxxxx Mithlond xxxxxxxX_

They were posing for a portrait, although as he understood, it was rare even for a married couple to sit so close for an official rendering. The glow emanated from her being, wrapping her in a translucent aura. Her eyes were brighter too, though they still held a reticence that spoke of her recent ordeal. She turned to him as if she sensed his thoughts and kissed him gently.

"That is not a proper pose, my Lord and Lady."

"You were hardly one who harped on etiquette in Nargothrond, Maengwen." Galadriel fixed her with accusing glare.

"Ah but here we have a young king and a new court. Perhaps it is best to set a shining example."

"Careful what you imply." Galadriel's toneless voice held an unexpected edge. But it was Celeborn who laughed unable to keep up the serious facade.

"Your brother, Elbereth bless his soul, could never sit still either." Maengwen shrugged unimpressed with her subject's ire. The Master artist had never been awed by one's position or heritage. In her opinion, one made their own way in the world regardless of their heritage. Celeborn's hand disappeared from Maengwen's view but the painter noted how the Lady shivered. "That is quite enough my Lord. Surely, such royalty can hold a simple pose for thirty more minutes."

Xxxxxxxx

Preparations were already underway to carefully transport precious artwork and books west. Those lives lived with such courage and tenacity should not to be forgotten, not if he had anything to say about it. Scribes were busy copying and translating some of the histories and accounts of this age as gifts for the royal library at Tirion. None of these preparations mattered at the moment. He traced the beloved face with his eyes. His fingers dared not touch the painting that had somehow survived the fall.

"Maengwen painted it at the Havens." A gruff voice interrupted. Finarfin turned to see the Mariner observing him.

"Lord Cirdan, welcome." Finarfin greeted in a low voice.

"She has truly captured your son's character. She was commissioned to make a copy as a gift for your daughter." Cirdan waited but Finarfin remained silent. Cirdan switched to antiquated accented Quenya. "You would have been proud of his diplomacy and tolerance Arafinwë. I was honored to call him friend."

"Nowë, my father called you, ancient one. Findaráto was a grandson of your brother at the Awakening."

"We had no idea of kin or family then. All called each other brother and sister around the waters of Cuiviénen. So many of the first ones are now lost. Yet Eru willing they will find life again on the sweet shores of the west. Ever did we celebrate the gift of new life. The addition of a new babe to our midst meant a new heart to be treasured and nurtured until they evolved into an adult who led and governed with integrity and love like your son."

"My father, brother, and sister were lost to Melkor and his demons. My half-brother and his family were taken in madness to a meaningless oath. But even all that grief and loss cannot compare to the pain of losing my sons. Now, I can only bring back stories and paintings to help ease our aching hearts."

"Hold them in your heart. Mine tells me that neither you nor Arda will long be deprived a light like Findaráto. Your other sons will be released someday as well. Live in the present and hope for the future."

"Is that how you endure?"

"It is the recipe for hope amidst adversity."

"Is there to be adversity in the West?"

"It is the naïve child who dreams that the West is free of trials and tribulations. Perhaps the Valar shield elves in the west from the likes of Morgoth and his evils. Yet free will and free choice mean our enemies are often found within ourselves. Perhaps the obvious struggle of good and evil is more clear-cut in these lands, yet the gray overlap, though tricky to discern is not less threatening." Cirdan's eyes pierced him. "Perhaps it took more courage to return to Tirion than it took to cross the ice."

Xxxxxxxx

"Come in." Elrond did not take his eyes off the moon, for few people outside of Ereinion or Glorfindel would call upon him this late in the evening.

"Elrond is this the greeting I get?" Elros smiled wryly at the slight figure of his brother, who appeared ready to retire. Elrond wore sleeping tunic and leggings, obviously crafted by Selina, for no elf should require such warmth indoors. His hair hung unbound nearly to his waist like a dark silk curtain.

"Elros!" Joy spread quickly over the pale face as Elrond raced to embrace his brother. "I thought – you said in your letter you were too busy."

"I thought to deliver you some treats for Yule. I am sorry I could not join you last month for the celebration." Elros stepped back to assess his brother for a moment. He was pleased that Elrond's eyes seemed brighter. But he could not help but frown at how the collarbone protruded. He hugged him close and whispered. "It looks like they are starving you Brother! "

"Is food still in short supply?" Bergil deposited several bags at the door.

"Bergil! Does your father know you are off on your own!" Elrond teased and hugged Beleford's son, now full grown, although Elrond remembered the mischievous little boy who always wanted to trick him.

"I am an adult!" Bergil announced. "I have the honor of accompanying our King." Bergil straightened with false indignation that only served as further humorous fodder. The brothers roared with laughter.

"Your father trusts Elros!" Elrond laughed heartily as Bergil punched his arm.

"No, Father trusts you." Bergil pointed at Elrond.

"What! I think I have just been insulted." Elros laughed harder.

"But seriously, should my Mother send you provisions? She will be most displeased to find out how thin you are." Bergil studied the half-elf, who had been an object of fascination for Bergil and his sister Analise. They had claimed him as "their elf" when they were young children, but now Elrond seemed the younger one by appearance.

"It can be arranged." Elros pulled his brother's hair, a move that earned him a dark glare. "There must be some benefit to being the brother of a King." Elros exchanged a glance with Bergil, who nodded in unspoken agreement. The capable young Man had become a fast friend and advisor to Elros. It would not be long before he took over Beleford's position as one of Elros' top advisors. The fact made Elros both proud and incredibly sad.

"I assure you, there are ample lembas." Elrond sighed.

"But you are not eating them." Elros held his gaze until Elrond looked away. "Guilty as charged! But why?"

"Their smell and taste - bad memories." Elrond shrugged, slightly perplexed at how to explain.

"Lembas do not smell!" Elros threw up his hands.

"They do." Elrond interjected seriously then added as an aside. "Or at least they do now."

"Some changes are harder to deal with than others." Elros squeezed his brother's shoulder comfortingly.

"An elf who can not stomach lembas!" Bergil threw up his hands in exasperation. "Well Mother packed you some goodies – hard cheeses, butter, and some cured sausage. The things in the box should keep out on your balcony in this cold."

"I brought you a sack of toasted barley – you should at least have enough for porridge for a couple weeks. And do not let me hear of you sharing."

"You need to take better care of yourself!" Bergil interjected. "You look like a stick."

"So says wise old Bergil!"

"Can I help it if you require so much more time to mature!"

Xxxxxxxxxx

"You spoke to the prisoner today?" Gil-Galad asked as he sipped his wine.

"Yes, I found it very disconcerting. He is definitely not in his right mind. Master Noenri's diagnosis of schizophrenia was confirmed by Tarwatirno, although we also know no effective treatment."

"He was respected singer from Doriath who saw the unthinkable and as a result wandered alone for years. It is a wonder he is not already in Mandos. Yet I would not risk him escaping, given the death threats he has voiced against the sons of Earendil."

"He muttered repeats of those statements in my presence. Any court would find him guilty." Finarfin paused and raised his glass but did not drink. "Elrond is yet unaware of what transpired?"

"As far as I know."

"He is well guarded?" Finarfin watched as Gil-Galad exchanged a glance with his seneschal Tarest

"Yes, for now." Gil-Galad sighed and rubbed his temples. "Although only because he is distracted and has not yet noticed the trailing guards."

"Ah, yes, I heard the Avari guard speak of the youth's apparent affinity for nature and his talent for slipping away unobserved. 'A wind sprite' he called him." Finarfin laughed at the thought. "My own children had the same knack for escaping their guard. But we should not place him at risk. It is clear that some elves do not know how to react to him. We can at least easily remove the threat from this ill elf. The prisoner needs medical care beyond what we are capable of. I suggest we send him west on the first set of ships. I will see to it that he is transported under guard to Lorien. Then will be no danger of him ever threatening Earendil's sons and neither will he ever be able to threaten their parents."

"That is most gracious."

"Until then Tarwatirno recommends a secure facility that does not resemble a prison cell as the week of solitary confinement appears to have exasperated his illness."

"From what my guards tell me, the singer was belligerent when they first incarcerated him and they had genuine fears for any cellmate. He spent much time to carefully plan the incident and was irate that it was thwarted. The full report was not released to Tarwatirno." His attention was drawn to a tall man, who was obviously searching for someone. Gil-Galad waved him over much to Finarfin's surprise.

"Mikeal!" The King raised his glass in greeting.

"Good evening King Gil-Galad." Mikeal bowed politely. Then he greeted King Finarfin with similar decorum.

"Elros is here?" Gil-Galad pressed Elros' most trusted advisor.

"We arrived this evening, Sire. Forgive me, I assumed he would come here." Mikeal looked around in confusion.

"Perhaps he went to greet his brother first." Aran Finarfin suggested amiably. The crowd had dwindled in the great hall where musicians still entertained. "Shall we convene a joint council tomorrow?"

"We have some requests but nothing that would require a council my Lords."

"Oh?" Gil-Galad was intrigued as he studied the man.

"Mostly judicial issues and inquiries about how you have crafted laws to protect the rights of your most vulnerable."

"Ah, you are considering how to craft judicial precedence and set them down in writing." Finarfin smiled in understanding.

"Certainly not something to be taken without due consideration. We would be happy to provide you access to our laws and libraries. Might I also suggest a meeting with some of our top scholars – Master Pengolodh in particular is an expert on comparative history and law and can elucidate the laws of number of elven kingdoms. Some were more successful at others at protecting the rights of the people." Gil-Galad said.

"Have difficult issues arisen among your people?" Finarfin questioned.

"The stresses and pressures of war pushed all but the most pressing civil cases aside. Now as we head towards more normal times," Mikeal hesitated as he considered what was wise to openly discuss.

"These cases now come forward."

"Beleford's father often dealt with such issues and many looked to him for council and guidance."

"This is the first time you and Elros have dealt with such issues." Gil-Galad realized.

"Not the first time but charges of child abuse shocked all especially Elros. He has been on edge for weeks since. Finally we suggested that a visit here might be in order. Beleford was worried but would not divulge anything." Mikeal paused poignantly. "Is there something I should know to better help my Lord and friend?" Gil-Galad bent forward and whispered, though he knew Finarfin would hear too.

"Neither of Earendil's sons would speak of it. But they did not have an easy time in Himring. Perhaps Elrond bore the brunt of the ill will but there was little Elros could have done."

"Among elves?" Finarfin gasped.

"There is the rare documented case. My wife's position is that no one wishes to believe such things." Gil-Galad looked across the room where his wife had somehow sensed that she was being spoken about. A small smile graced her face before she turned back to converse with Galadriel. "She has campaigned to raise the healers awareness so they may be watchful of suspicious injuries."

"Elros was not hurt!" Mikeal gasped.

"Fear not, both he and his brother escaped permanent harm and fortuitously landed in loving families."

"The elder Belegarous and his wife Ríanna." Mikeal breathed out at the realization. Gil-Galad nodded.

"They were noble, gentle hearted folk who loved them like sons. Eru surely has blessed them where ever it is your people go after death."

"And they are blessed by you and Lady Indiriel."

"Is it not by our love for our family and friends that we are blessed?" Gil-Galad replied honestly. Finarfin raised his glass to that sentiment, the ancient elf humbled by the generous spirit of this young relative.

Xxxxxxxxx

"Did Elros arrive?" Gil-Galad asked the guards at the entrance to the royal wing.

"He arrived early this evening with a young squire – no," the guard paused and looked down at his sheet. "A young edain called Bergil. The youth departed an hour ago to seek a room in the guest wing."

"Elros is still there?"

"I believe he planned to stay for the night." The guard said as he turned the page for his Lord to read more easily. It was a list that documented the comings and goings of everyone who entered the royal wing. Indiriel laid her hand on her husband's arm. He thanked the guard and they continued on until they came to the hallway outside of Elrond's chambers.

"I will catch up with you." Gil-Galad squeezed his wife's hand.

"They are fine." She smiled and shook her head. Of course Ereinion still worried.

He knocked on the door but there was no answer. Silently he entered. The fire had burned low in the hearth. The room smelled distinctly of sausage, barley, and beer. Indeed used cups and bowls were piled precariously on the corner table, although the fire burned low in the hearth. Across the room, two figures were sprawled across the large bed, each wrapped in separate woolen blankets whose color and weave suggested Edain origins. Their faces were peaceful in sleep. Gil-Galad smiled at the sight then moved to stoke the fire with some of the extra logs stacked nearby. The room had cooled off already. There was a basket of kindling, mostly leaves mixed with a crumpled assortment of parchment. The paper caught his eyes, as it was one of many things currently in short supply. He picked up one of the crudely made sheets. It was unlike the parchment that Elrond typically made. Unfolding it he realized it was covered with unfamiliar script. Had Tarest been standing beside his King, the Seneschal would have taken a step back at the anger that exploded across Gil-Galad's face. Scrawled on the sheet was a death threat accompanied by numerous slurs about peredhil. Of course any leader occasionally received these types of poisonous letters – a hazard of being in such prominent positions. He and Indiriel had attendants and secretaries who screened these away from normal correspondences. But the young peredhel was not a leader nor yet in any position of power.

"_He should not have to deal with such things!" _Thought Gil-Galad as he picked out the crumpled papers from among the leaves and tossed them into an empty basket nearby. He resolved to bring the matter to the attention of Tarest and his security advisors. He contemplated the sleeping figures for some time. Their peaceful faces catalyzed the release of his anger. Yes, he would continue to do all within his power to keep them safe. For tonight, at least there was no worry or danger.

_Xxxxxxxxx Days later at the Orphanage xxxxxxxxxX_

"Greetings Laeste!"

"Silsi! It is good to see you! You healers are remarkably quick. You must have barely received our request!"

"I came as soon as I got word that some of your elflings were suffering. The little ones have been through so much. Anything we can do to ease their transition is worth it. Where are they?"

"I will take you too them, but first you should change out of your healers uniform. They did not trust me enough to tell me of their injuries." Laeste led the healer to a small closet. "You can borrow something of mine. You are just a little taller than me."

"Then how did you find out? Surely, a healer had to see them to diagnose such problems."

"There is a volunteer who has healing knowledge. He has been coming in the afternoons and is working hard to make the elflings smile and play. He did not want to risk scaring them by donning the persona of a healer."

"Who?" Silsi was intrigued.

"You must play along." She smiled and handed the healer a colorful tunic.

"A bit garish? No?"

"Nonsense, it makes the little ones smile. Ask them which color they like best." Laeste advised as she led the healer towards the courtyard. Soft laughter tinkled in the dusk. The dinner bell would ring soon but a group of small elflings gathered around a dark crouching figure. Silsi drew in a deep breath in surprise as the dim light glistened on the bubbles that surrounded the group. Some of the elflings blew through short tubes – dried bamboo she hazard to guess. Others waved sticks with circular figures on the end. All were cheering overjoyed at the bubbles that glide off their implements like magic. Screeches and shrieks of delight accompanied a wild frenzy of hands attempting to clap away the bubbles.

"There," Laeste pointed out a seated elfling who was tapping bubbles nearby with his toes. The elfling's pale lips curved slightly but the arm wrapped gingerly around his torso suggested he was in pain. She slipped a wrapped toffee into the healer's hand as she warned her to "tread carefully for he has yet to trust enough to tell anyone his name." Silsi nodded and crossed over to the group. Flashing silver eyes of the adult elf in the center caught her off guard and the musical young voice announced her.

"Look my friend Silsi has joined us. Catch Silsi." The teasing voice accompanied the whoosh of the small thrown object. She caught the tube. "Blow on the dry end."

She sat down near the quiet elfling but did not look at him directly. Instead she pretended to puzzle over the object in her hand, her inaction drew his attention.

"Do you know how?" She whispered. The elfling nodded but did not speak. She curled her hand around the tube to hide it from view and passed it to the child as she shook his hand. "Can you show me?" Slowly the timid elfling took the reed then blew. A cascade of bubbles emerged from the end. A small smile erupted from the thin lips as the others cheered. A little girl carefully carried a shallow plate filled with a clear liquid.

"Opps!" She cried as some trickled off the edge as she squatted to place the plate before them. The elfling dipped the end of the reed into the plate and blew again. She laughed with the others and gently stroked the youth's arm. He flinched away at first but gradually allowed the contact. Bubbles floated like snow around them. The dinner bell broke the spell. The elflings cheered and threw their bubble wands to the center. No one wanted to miss a bite of the precious meal. Her young patient stood with a groan.

"What is your name Penneth?" She asked as she rose. The azure eyes spoke volumes but not a peep came from the dry lips. "I can see you are in pain. I am a healer. May I treat you?" The elfling gasped in fear.

"Penneth, would you like a new name?" Elrond sat low so that he looked upward at the frightened boy. A nod came in response. "Well, then I have to hear the song of your spirit." Elrond held his hands up and closed his eyes.

"A song?" The elfling stuttered breathlessly but took his hands. Silsi watched in silence.

"I name you Celulach." The elfling's eyes grew wide. "For your spirit never gave up even against adversity. Do you approve?" Again the little head nodded.

"My friend Silsi is a healer. She can help you. She helped me." Elrond crossed his hand over his heart. Frightened eyes grew wide again and the boy darted off to join the others in line for dinner.

"I sensed weak bones and several fractures." Silsilalda divulged.

"That is what I sensed too. I think it is from malnutrition and lack of sunlight. His friend says he was found alone in the woods."

"Malnutrition? Rickets is common among the Edain but rarely observed among the eldar."

"Come, you will have to win his trust in order to examine him more thoroughly. Perhaps it would be easier won by treating some of the other ill elflings."

"There are more?"

"They have lost too much." Elrond paused remembering situations where he had also hidden his injuries. "They are unwilling to risk what they have by drawing attention to themselves."

"Well, come then, I have little ones to meet. Perhaps I should bring kittens with me next time."

"Are they descendants of Selig?" He had fond memories of Laeste's regal white cat.

"Why yes, they are, though Selig's descendants are no one's pets. Perhaps if you are good, one of the kittens might choose you as a pet." She teased as she grasped Elrond's arm. "This way my dear elfling."

Notes:

Finarfin's full siblings were Fingolfin, Findis and Irimë. Their older, half-brother Fëanor likely needs no introduction.


	18. Chapter 18 Time marches on

_Xxxxxxxxxx The Orphanage in Mithlond xxxxxxxxxX_

Lord Glirthon consulted with Laeste as the elflings filled the dining hall. They had tried to make it as warm and inviting as possible, knowing that many of their charges had seen too much in their young lives.

"There are thirty more at Hollings, but perhaps it is unwise to burden you so."

"Each child needs personal attention. Too large a group and they will retreat into themselves out of fright. My council would be to build smaller facilities, each staffed with permanent people. Like a family they could form lasting bonds with their young charges." Laeste introduced Lord Glirthon to the other caregivers. Each of these elves would cherish interactions with the orphans. Soft chatter made her look up. Healer Silsilalda and Elrond entered. Elrond stood behind her obviously deferring to Silsi as the senior authority. Laeste's heart warmed at the peredhel's comely visage. For years she had help care for the youth and had grown to love him. She assumed that the young peredhel, who had spent time befriending the orphans, did not want to frighten them by taking on a role of authority.

"Have you prepared the elflings for our visit?" Silsilalda asked. It puzzled her that Lord Glirthon visibly tensed, for she had never had any ill dealings with the ellon.

"You certainly brought enough supplies. Will that not frighten some?" Lord Glirthon ignored her companion.

"Undoubtedly it will." Silsilalda agreed as Elrond shifted one of the bags from off his shoulder. Mellow string sounds accompanied the movement.

"Perhaps some songs will make everyone felt better." Elrond suggested softly.

"Elfling, I trust you plan to sing as well as play." Laeste smiled at the endearing blush that quickly spread across the youth's cheeks. The children were enchanted by the peredhel's melodies. Silsi slowly moved among them, never once forgetting to bow and ask permission of the child before checking for hidden injuries and illnesses.

_Xxxxxxxx A conference room in the royal library xxxxxxxX_

"Thank you for the texts." Elros mumbled off-handedly as he turned back towards his councilors. The Lore Master had come to check if they sought any more tomes from the great library.

"You are so different than your brother." Master Pengolodh huffed softly, offended that the upstart peredhel had again forgotten to address him by title. But this upstart turned and gave him a stare that made him stiffen first then bow.

"What was that Pengolodh? Not a slight to my brother I trust." Elros had attended a handful of Gil-Galad's council sessions in this visit. These were Elrond's first as partial council member. Others had dismissed the young peredhel out of hand but were outwardly respectful out of fear of reprisal from their King. Yet Elros was as perceptive as his brother and could easily see through the masks, especially that of Lord Ferchíl, who seemed to hold Elrond with special distain.

"No my Lord," Pengolodh replied politely, having recognized in the stoic visage Turgon's disgruntled demeanor. He met the powerful gaze steadily as he mentally compared the leaders. "Your brother is one of the brightest pupils I have yet tutored. He will grow into a Lore Master of great stature."

"Well said," Elros paused and held the Lore masters' gaze long moments. "Master Pengolodh can you provide us your opinions and evaluations on how effective these different approaches turned out to be?"

"Opinions?" The Lore Master repeated uncomprehendingly.

"Which laws of these elven realms were most successful at protecting the rights of the indigent and the young? What personal freedoms were guaranteed within these realms?" Elros let out a low laugh at the expression on the Lore Masters face. "I take it personal liberty was not guaranteed by my illustrious ancestor in Gondolin. Were you involved in the crafting of these laws?"

"I was often consulted. Gondolin's laws sought to protect the greater populace and shroud the city from Morgoth's reaches. Personal liberties were not among my King's top priorities."

"Then your opinions would be most valuable. We are considering ways to set down ordinances and rules of law to protect our populace." Elros motioned for the elf to join them at the round table. Pengolodh appraised the youthful edain faces then nodded to the Peredhel as he moved to join their discussion.

_Xxxxxxxx Council Chambers in the Havens xxxxxxxX_

"When will the first fleet of ships be ready to sail?"

"There is no telling when the Teleri will arrive. It could be as early as this autumn."

"The Vanyar were most gracious in volunteering to leave Aman and fight for distant cousins. We should accommodate the Vanyar first." Finarfin acknowledged.

"Many of our people are weary of the fighting and heart sore. I believe it is in our best interest to return to Aman quickly, especially now that the Valar and most of the Maiar have departed." Ingwion agreed.

"Tarwatirno has made a count of the injured, without regard to their background, who require healing in the Gardens of Lorien." Lord Manveru informed them.

"With the addition of the Teleri ships, all the remaining Vanyar and some of Noldor may be able sail forth together."

"The Teleri will come ashore?" Finarfin brow curled upwards. "They would not hear of stepping onto these lands during the war."

"Cirdan has established a small settlement of Teleri at the new Havens. The missive delivered by the eagle suggests that the Teleri of Aman are receptive to coming ashore at least briefly."

"Once the Teleri ships arrive, my guess is that we would have a few days to a week to gather elves and supplies. I doubt that the Teleri would suffer much time ashore, as they were adamantly against even touching these lands when they shuttled us here." Ingwion noted. "We should plan an autumn departure. It will easy enough to push the time table back if needed."

"Our departure will relieve some pressure on the land's finite resources."

"Lord Orondo and his patrol are the only group of Vanyar inland. With your orders, my Lord, I would send word for them to return immediately."

"Do so immediately." Ingwion ordered but Lord Gildor rose unexpectedly.

"Allow me to carry your orders, Lord Ingwion. My band of warriors can take over Orondo's patrol route."

"You and your warriors have decided not to sail?" Aran Finarfin questioned.

"Unlike those in Turgon's entourage, all among our wandering band are free to chose. However, only two now seek passage West. For many, this is the only home they have known. They would not abandon these lands now that Morgoth has been vanquished."

"The majority of those who desire to depart have already gathered at Mithlond."

"We will take count of the Vanyar and any Teleri from Cirdan's realm who seek passage west. Then we can estimate how many of the Noldor that we can accommodate on the first voyage."

"If possible, we should at least help with the first harvest." Finarfin frowned. His heart would feel better if he knew those that remained would have a bountiful harvest. He was looking forward to a hearty meal. Most elves were not satisfied by the current rations. As it was, Earwin would likely fret over how thin he was.

"Much will depend on the Teleri. They are unlikely to delay." Ingwion pointed out, not unkindly. The rest of the afternoon was spent hashing out details and dividing responsibilities among the tribes. The remnants of those from Himring were not represented, although one name, Celebrimbor, kept surfacing as their possible representative. Finarfin, made a mental note to seek this grandson of Fëanor out. Rumor was that the youth had parted with the elves of Himring and had sought Findaráto's protection in Nargothrond. What was not clear was how long he stayed in the doom kingdom nor where he had been since. Finarfin turned his attention back to the tasks at hand. It was many hours before they adjourned. Indeed, the sun was already setting when Finarfin and his entourage began the long walk back to Mithlond. By the time they arrived at the palace, even elven eyes could only make out shadows in the nascent palace gardens. Finarfin, however, detected the fëa of another, although he could not see anyone. His guard knew him too well and responded quickly.

"Sire, is there danger?"

"No," Finarfin reached out with his senses. His thoughts scanned the garden, interrogating the shapes and shadows with the mental acuity that had made the house of Finwe renowned. This presence was young and uncertain, though wrapped in a power that spoke of something beyond elves. His tongue tasted grief on the wind – wind that cloaked and hid its friend. "It is one of the peredhel. Keep watch and secure the garden I would have a word with him." Finarfin followed the wind with his heart, distrusting his sight. His feet propelled him forward towards a row of sapling trees. _"Cherries, pecans and oaks"_ his mind supplied as a slight figure materialized suddenly solid and tangible. Wisps of smoke floated around the seated figure, seeming lending credence to folktales that spoke of how Melian bewitched Thingol.

"Elrond, good evening." Finarfin smiled as the Peredhel startled and jumped to his feet. He noted the tracks of tears on the youth's face but made no comment.

"Aran Finarfin." The youth stuttered then promptly bowed as he discreetly tried to wipe away his tears. "I apologize. I did not hear you."

"It is I who should apologize. Forgive me for startling you Earendilion." The youth looked down at the mention of his Father's name. "We have safely packed the portrait of you and your brother. It will be my honor to present it to them and to tell them what fine adults you have grown up to be. Have you given thought to the suggestion of a letter?" He put his arm around the clearly unsettled youth and sighed.

"It will be a few years before these trees are large enough to climb. When in trouble my Ambaráto would always hide in the largest Mallorn in the court garden. It usually fell to Findaráto to fetch him." Silver eyes shiny with unshed tears turned towards him in surprise, but the reticent youth remained silent. "We had many years to treasure our children and many years to yearn for any word of them. Your parents will treasure any note that you write them regardless of what it says." The youth rubbed at one of his wrists and Finarfin saw the faint raised line on the fair skin. In another century or two the small scar would not be recognizable, although it would still plague this beautiful soul.

"You have endured and thrived despite such overwhelming adversity. There is nothing to be ashamed of. There is no need to dwell on the past nor divulge things you would rather leave behind." The youth stiffened ever so slightly but otherwise gave neither confirmation nor denial that the King's supposition fell close to the mark. "The things you have achieved thus far, you have earned on your own merits. I am proud of you and your parents will be too. Hearing of even one of your accomplishments would ease your parents' worry and assuage some their deep-seated guilt. Perhaps you could tell of your study of the healing arts or you might send a sample of your writings."

"I do not remember him." The admission was barely audible but Finarfin understood.

"There is no reason to include such an admission." Finarfin soothed. "If you were my son, I would crave word of your life and hope that you had found people who love you to stand near you in my absence."

_Xxxxxxxx Palace guest rooms xxxxxxxX_

"Indiriel asked if Elrond could travel as part of our party." Gellir felt the muscles under her hands stiffen but she continued to knead the tense muscles. There was no need to guess that this was an unwelcome addition to their imminent departure.

"His presence alone increases our risk along the road. I would not have my family put in any danger."

"Our safety lies in numbers." Gellir calmly and methodically messaged the muscular torso. "Besides no matter what, Gil-Galad intends that the youth return to the forest for healing."

"Dior's line insights kinslaying."

"That had nothing to do with Dior's line or Elrond and everything to do with those forsaken Silmarils," she countered. "He is a youth facing a long separation from the last of his family."

"Why would he choose to be separated from his brother when among elves he will forever be a lightning rod for controversy. Why have the Valar dictated that he remains?"

"You think they dictated their choice?" she countered. Oropher only shrugged. "If they were merciful, they would have allowed the boys to see their parents. It's unthinkable that a Mother be forbidden to return to her sons." She paused in her efforts to rub her hand over her heart. The persistent ache at having lost one of her precious children would never go away. She shook away the melancholy that threatened to overwhelm her and focused on Earendil's young son_._ "You admire the Elrond's tenacity and selfless spirit."

"He is a credit to his line – a throw back to his great-grandparents and grandparents," Oropher admitted begrudgingly.

"Without their overwhelming personalities." She laughed at the comparison of the quiet elf with his boisterous ancestors.

"Give him time. Thranduil says he can be very talkative in the right circumstances."

"So you will allow him to join our travel party?"

"Yes, but I will demand a larger escort to ensure our safety. Also we should advise Elrond to keep a low profile. I would not risk him inciting the ire of the conservative elements."

"Conservative! That is a misnomer for those who were against the coupling of his long deceased ancestors – elves who would be happier if he and his brother had never existed."

"True, yet I think that until he earns the respect of the majority, his life will forever be in peril."

"Safety is sometimes beyond our control." She trembled slightly but Oropher sensed her fear and quickly embraced her.

"Your safety is not something I would ever trifle with." Oropher kissed her.

_Xxxxxxxx The Palace Gardens xxxxxxxX_

"It is too quiet without Oropher." She watched him bristle then catch himself and a mask of complacency descended over his visage. Galadriel smiled at her husband's reaction. They could not hide much from each other, so entwined were their fëar. "Fear not, he will return in the fall."

"They will not stay long. They are not made for a city of the Noldor." He turned towards the sun. It would be a decade before these seedlings could provide adequate shade.

"No," she agreed as she sat down beside him. "The Avari will awaken their craving for the forest. But neither will we remain here any length of time."

"You would leave Ereinion alone and follow me into the wilderness?" His whisper carried surprise.

"I would explore the world by your side." She traced his elegant neck with her finger.

"Once it is safe."

"Safe is uninteresting. Safe is not living." She kissed her ever dangerously thrilling warrior and ran her hands through the liquid metal strands of his hair. Celeborn ('silver tree') was much too tame a name for him.

"Your Adar would disagree." His eyes gave nothing away as he scanned their surroundings.

"My Adar sails in the autumn." Her smile quirked mischievously. That he caught her teasing mouth with a scathing kiss, confirmed her assessment that they were alone.

"_An ill timed look out the window,"_ she thought incoherently before passion swept all worries aside. _"Melethron."_

_Xxxxxxxx Traveling to the wedding xxxxxxxX_

"Gather your equipment and wake your friend." Niphendriel smiled as she took her son's bowl. "Oropher wants us to set forth in a half hour."

"Calimdriel will need more time."

"I will hurry your sister along. You take care of your sleepy friend." She laughed as Erestor rose. A dozen bedrolls were spread out around the far edge of the trees. Only one was still occupied. Its owner snuggled firmly inside, soundly asleep.

"Elrond, wake up." He smiled at the lack of response and gently pulled the blanket away.

"Cold." A low voice whimpered pitifully.

"Come Elrond, you will miss the morning meal." He chided but pulled in his breath as the too silver eyes blinked dazedly. It was unsettling to watch the changes in his friend and he almost jumped as the trees rustled what could be taken as a morning greeting. No, he must be imagining things. Erestor pulled at a black braid and teased his friend.

"Fine." Elrond groused as he sat up and rubbed at his eyes. "Are you taking lessons from Elros?"

"You would not be happy if I took any of his suggestions." Erestor laughed and turned to see who was approaching them.

"Peredhel, we can not have you missing breakfast. You might fall from that beast you call a horse." Thranduil laughed as he handed Elrond a bowl.

"Thank you for the feast Mellon-nin." Elrond accepted the porridge. "Braigsûl may be a free spirit."

"Ill-tempered you mean." Thranduil corrected.

"But if he consents to bear you, he flies like the wind." Elrond savored a bite of porridge. "Thanks for saving some breakfast for me."

"Your brother asked me to look out for you. He said something about you disliking lembas." Thranduil laughed at the embarrassed blush that quickly spread across Elrond's face.

"An elf disliking lembas!" Erestor feigned horror. Teasing his friend was just too easy.

"Careful or I might divulge your dislikes." Their laughter was interrupted by Oropher's call to mount. Elrond quickly finished up his breakfast as his friends helped him with his bedroll.

"Another week and we should be celebrating with the Avari." Erestor was anticipating a rowdy party. "I have heard their dances are wild and entertaining."

"My brothers and I can vouch for that!" Thranduil exclaimed. "It will be a month to remember."


	19. Chapter 19 A woodland wedding

"_Maengwen ordered_ _two additional copies of the painting." Elrond paused._

"_We look dashing!" Elros' grin widened at his brother's bashful look. "But do not fear. Eru willing you will visit Númenor many times, even if we have to have you stow away on a trading ship."_

"_There is no way of knowing that."_

"_Elrond, trust me. We will still spend much time together_._"_ Elros had said, but even as Elrond replayed the conversation in his head, his heart ached that they were separated for yet another summer.

"Elrond! You are not dressed yet? You have not even braided your hair." Erestor appeared quite dapper in the Sindarin dress robes and sighed dramatically as he grabbed the tunic from the bed. "These are royal garb indeed. Gil-Galad's device intertwined with your Adar's seal. I heard his battle against the great dragon Ancalagon lit up the sky."

"What?" Elrond absently fingered the embroidery on his sleeve. Erestor had been busy helping with the wedding preparations, and had not spent much time with his friend these last weeks. Luckily, they shared a tent, so he at least saw him in the mornings.

"Your Adar. Did you see him fight the dragons?" Erestor parted the smoky strands and began braiding. Elrond's reticence was sometimes misinterpreted as aloofness, but Erestor knew better. It was not easy to be a peredhel among elves – the last of several lines of legendary kings.

"I saw his ship." The Peredhel paused then added softly. "It was lit with the shimmering light of Naneth's Silmaril."

"_It is a travesty to have had their Adar so close, yet not be able to meet him." _Erestor thought as he struggled to come up with a more innocuous topic. He filed away the comment about Elrond recognizing the Silmaril. "Calimdriel is counting the hours until she will be free from Mother's rules."

"One is never free of guidelines or expectations that govern our behavior." Elrond winced as Erestor tugged the finished braid.

"Sorry." Erestor grinned impenitently.

"Though if any could escape them successfully it would be your sister." Elrond rose and held back a sigh as Erestor assessed his appearance.

"Come, it is time." Erestor said in approval. Apparently, they were suitably attired.

"They would rather I was not present."

"Calimdriel and I are honored by your presence, elfling." Erestor pulled Elrond's braid teasingly. "Time to go." He announced and pulled his friend out of the tent. Erestor did not remember much from the walk, but soon they were standing in front of his Naneth and Sister's tent.

"Are you ready?" He called into the tent. His Naneth emerged in a sparkling Emerald green dress, her face lit with a joy that Erestor remembered from old, when his Adar still walked the world. Calimdriel stepped out behind her. She looked radiant with white flowers braided into her midnight hair. Happiness flowed from her.

"You look beautiful." Erestor hugged his sister. "Orodiun is one lucky ellon." Flanked by her Naneth on one side and Erestor on the other, the three of them walked down to the meadow with Elrond following behind. The festivities commenced in a sea of summer colors. The blessings and ceremony took place under the loving caress of the golden sun, Eru's sign of his unending love. A low platform was covered with scented blossoms of yellows and whites. The Herutaurë was dressed in the greens of his beloved forest and wore a crown of flowers. Soon the happy couple was exchanging their vows in front of the ancient Lord of the Forest.

"Gerich velethnín a guil nín al lû bân. (You have my love and my life for all time.)" Orodiun's sincere pledge rang out. Erestor heard a sob nearby and turned to find his Naneth dabbing at her eyes with a kerchief. He put his arm around her shoulder and kissed her cheek. He knew that someday Adar would be reborn.

Blessings and prayers for the couple's future were uttered in song form. Soon harp, flute, drum and voices lifted in a call to the dance. Undulating melodies led graceful feet as the dancers swept around the circle in joy. Oropher's family was in the center of the festivities, which had drawn many, significantly increasing the size of this Avari settlement. The patriarch in question was now dancing with his youngest. Little Aurmîr's smile was wide as her Ada swept her up in his arms. Andapher was trying to cut in on the happy couple.

"This is my bride, brother." Orodiun teased as he kissed Calimdriel to the delight of the other dancers. "Find your own."

"I could use a partner Ion-nin." Lady Gellir accepted her son's arm as the others laughed. Erestor and Lillanlai passed them on their way of the circle.

"Thank you for teaching me the steps, my Lady." Erestor bowed to Lillanlai.

"Erestor, you are precious!" The princess laughed, a melodious sound like cascading water. "I have not had such a wonderful time in ages. Your sister is so dear and it does not take any special foresight to know that she and Orodiun are made for each other. Perhaps we should enjoy one more dance. This is my favorite Silvan melody." Indeed, the language of the singing had shifted and for the first time, Erestor realized that what he had thought of as a closed society, in reality included elves of Silvan descent in addition to their Avari hosts. This tune was much more earthy with a deep rhythm that mirrored their heartbeats.

"Are their many Silvan elves here?" Erestor asked the Princess, whose brow lifted in surprise at the question.

"Some of our Sindar and Nandor brethren as well. Oropher was a diplomat in Doriath and his honest, forthright nature won him much respect. Word spread far and wide of his Orodiun's betrothal. Many came to pay their respects." Lillanlai explained. Erestor noted that the crowd appeared to watch, nay openly admire Oropher and his family.

"Not just pay their respects." He let his thoughts slip out loud. The Princess nodded too.

"My Adar believes that Oropher would make a great leader and King. The free peoples deserve to have their choice of settlements. Not all would settle in Mithlond or under the Avari's more nomadic lifestyle. Some seek a permanent settlement in the woods under the safety of a wise leader. Your sister will go. Will you?"

"I had not considered it before." Erestor admitted.

"An honest answer." Lillanlai smiled. "But your family hails from Doriath. I met your Adar several times. He was a respected warrior with a keen mind. As a child of Elu's forest realm, surely you would want to return with your people."

"My Adar moved our family to Tol Galan when Lúthien and Beren settled there."

"Was he among the small band of guards and councilors sent to aid and protect Elu's daughter?" Lillanlai asked.

"I believe so, although he told me he volunteered. Tol Galan was a small but close knit community."

"I heard there were men there as well!" Lillanlai's voice held a tremor of fear.

"A few including Beren and Lúthien at that point." Erestor smiled. "I did not interact with them. The isle's beauty and safety…"

"Gave you elflings much space for adventure and play." Lillanlai read his thoughts.

"After Lúthien passed from Arda, we moved to Balar."

"Calimdriel told me about her childhood on Balar." Lillanlai recalled.

"My parents thought it would be safe place to raise their family. I think they were planning for a large family. However, it was not to be."

"Maybe Calimdriel and Orodiun will be blessed with many children."

"I think they need some years to mature before they think of adding elflings to their responsibility." Erestor laughed lightly.

"This is the night to enjoy the festivities." They spun around the circle again to the thumping beat. Erestor felt as if the rhythm drove all thought and worry away. Indeed, he had no concept of how long they had danced or when they changed partners. He had not caught the smiling redhead's name, although he gallantly kissed her hand and thanked her for the dance as he breathlessly murmured his excuse sit out the next song.

"Erestor! Come join us!" Orodriun called as he stepped out of the circle. The sons of Oropher were a riotous group and Calimdriel was still laughing at one of their stories when he joined them. Thranduil poured him a glass of wine and they made space for him around the packed table. One person of note was missing, prompting Erestor to scan the periphery. Elrond had been quiet and withdrawn. Erestor knew he was worried about detracting from the event at hand by drawing attention to himself. Indeed, the peredhel seemed to be practicing the fine art of fading into his surroundings. _"Is this some trickery of the Maiar?" _Erestor had teased. Perhaps his jest was not far off the mark for Elrond had only shrugged in reply.

"Where is your shadow?" Calimdriel realized who her brother was looking for. Erestor looked to where Elrond had been standing but only a worried guard stood there looking frantically around. Erestor closed his eyes and listed with his heart. Elrond had quickly learned to stay to the shadows. The Avari were wary of outsiders and he had enough harrowing encounters to know where the general populace stood in regards to a peredhel. Still, the quiet, contemplative role suited his friend, though it was a world apart from the leadership role Elrond had assumed in the Edain healing ward during the war. Erestor had several times stumbled upon Elrond happily sketching medicinal plants in the woods.

"Under the oak beside the musicians." Erestor spied the elusive figure. Calimdriel turned and Elrond indeed slid into focus. She waved, and he smiled in response then turned sideways and slipped out of vision.

"He is gone again."

"Probably chagrinned at being detected." Erestor poured himself a much glass of water and drank deeply. Silvan dances were strenuous. Absently, he wondered how Lúthien had walked undetected into Angband. Perhaps Elrond had inherited some of her talents. "They forbid him from dancing. Something about not inciting grievances."

"What! Did you not complain?" Calimdriel was incensed. She knew how much her friend enjoyed dancing.

"You know as well as I do that it would not be in any one's best interest to cause a scene." Erestor returned.

"Adar thinks that everyone needs time to accept the Valar's proclamations and to deal with a new reality in a world without constant battles against Melkor." Orodiun's voice held sadness as he tried to look for their friend.

"Elrond needs time as well, not only heal but to understand and accept the changes that his choice brings. He can do that best away from the polarized eyes of the crowd." Thranduil shifted his hold on his young sister. The small straw colored head turned and blue eyes blinked open momentarily but close with a sigh as she settled back into the comfort of her brother's hold. All the excitement had apparently caught up with the elfling. "It is best not to draw attention to him."

Xxxxxxx

"Your charge?" Kalmë jumped at Herutaurë's voice then quickly scanned the last place where the peredhel was lurking. The dark haired Peredhel was nowhere in sight.

"Too slippery. Maybe he is a shape shifter," he opined as his King laughed quietly. That the Peredhel was a shape shifter like Melian, Lúthien, and Elwing was unlikely although not out of the realm of possibility.

"Perhaps his Maiar heritage does endow him with talents beyond our own. But put aside your vision and focus on the song of the trees. They rejoice in the youth's presence." The forest lord clapped his guard's shoulder and turned to rejoin the dance.

"Would you grant me the favor of a dance?" The Forest Lord asked a stunned Niphendriel.

"Hantanye Herutaurë," Niphendriel curtsied before accepting his offer to dance. She was honored that the Lord of the Forest had showered such attention on her daughter's wedding.

"Your heart is filled with both joy and sorrow." The Lord of the Forest astutely noted. "Come let us tip the balance towards joy. Your beloved would have rejoiced that his daughter had found such happiness." Niphendriel nodded in agreement. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"You honor us with your attention. The ceremony was beautiful beyond words."

"It is a momentous occasion in the young couple's lives and should be celebrated as such regardless of their status or positions."

"Oropher and his sons will be great leaders." Niphendriel whispered. The Forest Lord smiled at her words.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"The day was perfect." Oropher kissed his wife as they walked towards the circle. An ancient lilting melody enticed the older elves to the dance. They took their places as the harp's call drew to a close. She was dark haired beauty who seemed to grow more beautiful with each passing year and he thanked Eru again for his good fortune. Then the rich, deep song began and they twirled, turned, and stepped in the intricate pattern that was the Lothwesta (blossom breeze). Indeed, those that now twirled on the green could trace their roots to Cuivienen. These were the first awaken. Their numbers now greatly diminished from the lake settlement.

"Almost perfect." Gellir smiled. Unspoken was their wish that Rúmdir could have been with them to celebrate his brother's wedding. Elves were never meant to experience the loss of a child.


	20. Chapter 20 Farewells

The song of the larks woke Niphendriel. Two weeks had passed since the wedding, but she was still adapting to living alone. She was a daughter of Doriath and one of the Yavannildi. She had married young, and her husband's family drew her in the responsibilities of court life in Doriath. When elflings did not appear, she assumed more responsibilities and pursued her interests in botany. At times, she had helped to coordinate the farmers around Doriath to plan for balanced plantings that would feed their people. Then late in their marriage, by elven standards, they had been blessed with children. First Erestor was born, his name 'one alone' was a testament to the fact that they had despaired of ever conceiving; however, their joy was multiplied when Calimdriel had arrived but a yen later. All too soon their dream came crashing down at Sirion. Her heart nearly stopped the moment her beloved's fëa split from her own. But she had been strong enough to survive. She would not leave her children orphaned. For many years, the task of raising Erestor and Calimdriel well was all consuming. But now they were grown and her baby was married.

"_What am I to do in this third version of my life?" _She pulled on a shift dress. Out of habit she reached for her brush. With long, gentle strokes she brushed out her hair. He used to enjoy watching her do this in the morning. Sometimes it led to more pleasurable activities. But that was so long ago. What was she to do with the time ahead of her? Should she return to botany or pursuit new interests or a combination of both? Glorfindel reported that only a handful of elves had yet been released from Mandos halls. She had been born soon after the founding of Doriath and had never laid eyes on the western shores. Her husband, parents, two sisters as well as aunts, uncles and cousins were all likely still in Namo's care. What use would sailing be, if there were no one there to greet her? How could she leave behind her children and the only land she had ever known? They might not need her as they once did, but she was well aware of how she drew strength from her extended family – family that was now lost. It was time now to reinvent her life again as she had at Tol Galan, at Balar, and at Mithlond. Starting over was never easy and now it would mean starting over as a widow whose children were grown and gone. She heard the call to morning songs. These melodies to Elbereth had been a balm to her soul these weeks. Her feet followed the call, and her spirit rejoiced at having this time to reflect on the past while having time to quietly contemplate the direction her life would take in the future.

"_O Elbereth! Gilthoniel"_

"_Snow-white! Snow-white! O Lady clear!_

_Oh Queen beyond the Western Seas!_

_O Light to us that wander here_

_Amid the world of woven trees"(1)_

_Xxxxxxxxxx The Havens xxxxxxxxxX_

"Amillë (Mother) knew that I would not be returning with you." Galadriel's voice was low. Her Adar would be sailing at dawn. The ships were loaded. This first voyage of twenty ships would transport all the injured, the remainder of the Vanyar, as well as the Noldoran and half of his warriors.

"She holds to the hope that some day you will return to us." Finarfin hugged his daughter tightly.

"It will never be as it was." Galadriel reminded him.

"No, it will not. We do not expect it too be. You have matured into a formidable force. You can be a positive influence for learning." Finarfin smiled suddenly. "But do not be fooled into thinking that life in Aman has been static. We have also grown and changed. When you left the youngest son of Finwë had only scant duties in the court. Now your Amillë and I rule the remainder of our people in the west."

"I have no doubt that you both rule more wisely and equitably than Grandfather. The Noldor of Aman could not ask for a better leader." Galadriel meant it sincerely.

"The task could be lightened immensely with the help and support of kin and a competent councilor."

"You have not trained them in all this time?"

"Oh we have, but those most skilled – councilors, healers, teachers all departed without warning. It made the training of new people much slower and more difficult. In some subjects and crafts, we had to wait for the favor of the Vanyar or Teleri to change so that their gilds and schools accepted a handful of Noldor pupils. I think you will face the same challenges as you take stock of the elves that will remain and the skills they possess. There is no neighboring kingdom to supplement any areas in which Gil-Galad's people are deficient. The talented must be taught, nurtured and developed."

"So, you have seen plans for the royal centers of learning." Galadriel smiled.

"It is a good start. But I think you and Celeborn will not remain here long to gift them your skills."

"Perhaps only intermittently."

"Though you speak it not, I know you yearn to explore the deep forests of this world." Finarfin paused and wrapped his arms around his beloved daughter. "Please be cautious and careful. I know you are no longer my little elleth but I fear the dangers you face so far beyond any of my protection. We love you dearly and wish you only joy."

"I will be careful Adar. Please give Amillë my love. I love you both dearly." Galadriel and her Adar treasured these last few hours together. Indiriel and Ereinion had planned a small gathering to toast those departing for the West.

_Xxxxxxxxxx The camp of the Avari xxxxxxxxxX_

"I am looking for Elrond." Erestor asked the healers.

"He was in the next meadow making notes about herbs." The elleth informed him. "The wedding was beautiful. Your family must be very happy."

"I have never seen my sister so happy." Erestor smiled and thanked her. The Elleth's openness led him to venture an inquiry about his friend. "How is Elrond's recovery going?"

"I have not been direct involved case." The healer informed him, but at Erestor's look of disappointment she added. "The chief healer seemed pleased. I have only met your friend in passing. He has quite a reputation for ever asking questions."

"That would be Elrond." Erestor laughed merrily, which seemed to put the junior healer at ease. "He has an insatiable curiosity about everything. The stories I could tell you!"

"The scuttlebutt is that he can not bear to sit idle. Yet, he is apparently here to learn how to meditate." She smiled and turned to see other healers approaching. "Have a good day Erestor."

"Thank you." He smiled and waved to the other healers before venturing off to find Elrond. The further he walked the quieter the forest became for the voices of elves were absent. Only nature provided music with songs of birds, the whisper of the wind, and the rustling of the trees. He felt suddenly glad that Aran Gil-Galad had suggested that Elrond accompany them. For it was apparent that the Avari kept their distance from the young peredhel. Erestor nearly jumped as the guard suddenly appeared. The Avari warrior spoke not a single word but motioned for him to stop. Erestor nodded and lifted his hands in a gesture of compliance. The warrior ran his hands along Erestor's frame, obviously searching for any concealed weapons a light touch.

"Erestor," the guard's voice intoned softly. "A new protocol to assure the young Prince's safety."

"Was there an incident?" Erestor inquired with worry. The guard left the question unanswered.

"We are prepared. The meadow is guarded. Look for the willow trees. Your friend sits by them at the water's edge." Erestor thanked the guard and followed the path down to the pond. The willows were in sight, but he saw no sign of his friend. He closed his eyes and listened. The songs of crickets were accompanied by throaty frog croaks. He heard the scratch of fingers rubbing against a surface. He focused on the noise and suddenly dark hair seemed to appear that waved like smoke on a wind he could not feel. The back of a seated figure was now visible. Elrond was crouched in a meditative pose. Something held Erestor back from speaking aloud. Instead he quietly walked up and sat down beside his friend. Elrond's eyes were closed, and he had assumed a meditative pose. He fingered a flat stone.

"It is the correct size and weight for skimming." The soft tenor announced as Erestor jumped.

"I thought you were meditating."

"Sometimes," Elrond paused. "Although being encouraged to mediate for hours on end is very tortuous."

"What do you mean by skimming?"

"A children's pastime in villages near a pond or water." Elrond paused. "Selena's children were very fond of it. Such flat stones are best." He handed Erestor the stone.

"What is the point?"

"What is the point of meditating? But I digress. You have to throw it in such a way that it bounces many times off the surface of the water before it sinks."

"It always sinks in the end."

"As do many other things." Elrond stiffened slightly. Erestor sought his eyes. They were silver and strangely powerful. For a moment, it seemed as if they could pierce his very soul and Erestor felt apprehensive.

"_Who are you? What are you?" _Erestor felt fear creep along his spine and he had to remind himself that this was indeed still the same person, who had long been his friend. Elrond, though, seemed to sense this fear. In response, he edged slightly away from Erestor and turned his gaze towards the water.

"They compete to see who can skim the stone the furthest and who can make the stone jump the most times. Sometimes there are even wagers. Here." The peredhel's voice seemed toneless and Erestor could not read his face. With a flick of his wrist the stone bounded out and skipped eleven no twelve times across the mirrored surface of the lake, sending concentric rings outwards from each place where it kissed the water's surface. "Both the angle and velocity are important."

Erestor could not comprehend the appeal of an _Edain _children's game. Indeed, he tried hard not to stare at Elrond, who was now pointing to a green leaf disturbed by the stone's wake.

"The stone's wake influences all things on the lake for good or ill." The soft tenor sighed. "That beech leaf has now capsized and will sink to the bottom. While the little ant caught on the maple leaf is now being pushed towards the shore. Perhaps he will make it to safety."

"This is the outcome of your day of meditation?" Erestor gaped.

"Sometimes it is hard to tell whether it is for good or ill. We make our mark our impact for a short time."

"With stones?" Erestor did not follow.

"We make our mark with how we use our talents. Our time is short."

"Not elves."

"Are we the same as before the war? Will we be the same a hundred years from now?"

"I doubt I will change so much."

"Listen to what your heart tells you. I am sure if you asked, Gil-Galad would agree to you employing those amazing cartography skills of yours while strengthening ties between the Sindar and Noldor."

"Are you telling me to leave?" Erestor asked. Elrond's palm opened to reveal another stone.

"Would you like to try a stone?"

"It will sink like the other."

"We share a tent. One would have to be blind not to see that you are torn by what you feel are you duties to Gil-Galad, to your Naneth, to Oropher and your sister. You long to join Oropher's party as they explore the forests of Arda."

"Are you sending me away my Prince?" Erestor tilted his head and smiled as Elrond grimaced at the title.

"I have no power to send or order anyone. Indeed, riots might ensue if I overstep my bounds." Elrond's laugh was a little forced. The silver eyes glinted oddly as Elrond paled and trembled slightly. Erestor put his arm around his friend and pulled him closer.

"You are here to recuperate. But solitude and rest do not seem to agree with you." Erestor teased, glad that he could be of some comfort. Erestor gave thanks that his Naneth and Sister were with him and were safe and happy. Elrond would all too soon lose the last of his kin when Elros sailed for Númenor. "I will speak to Aran Gil-Galad when we return and I know you are safe and well cared for." The comment earned him the anticipated groan and he had to stifle a laugh. _"I think the powers ask too much of you." _Erestor thought as he held the exhausted elf. "Perhaps I will contemplate the game of stone skipping while you rest."

_Xxxxxxxxxx An evening at the Havens xxxxxxxxxX_

"One more round." Orondo raised his hand toward the bar.

"I think you have had enough." Ingwion's voice was stern. "You would not want me to report you to the High King."

"You would not." The color drained from Orondo's face. Glorfindel's laughter rang clear and melodious.

"You are improving Ingwion. Soon your deadpan delivery will have your uncle guessing." Glorfindel was happy that the royal Vanya was able to escape the feast early and come join his people.

"More wine?" The elleth came with a carafe.

"Please!" Chimed many elves at once.

"It will not be the same with out you Glorfindel." Ingwion threw his arm around the reborn's shoulder.

"We shall miss you." Orondo agreed, as did the others who were celebrating their last night in the Havens. The ships sailed tomorrow. The tavern was packed with Vanyar as well as a handful of Teleri who had snuck off their ships. Most of the Teleri from Aman reused to step foot on this land. Songs brightened the already rowdy tavern.

"Do not forget to give yourself time to recover." Ingwion said.

"You either. Aman is not without its cares and dangers. Some will think you bring back a taint just by having visited here."

"I think we are tainted." Orondo whispered.

"We grow by our experiences. If they cannot see that, then they are deluding themselves. " Ingwion returned with a conviction he did not truly feel.

"It is too easy to fool oneself and pretend ones own problems and cares are the same for everyone." Glorfindel offered.

"Glorfindel! Such deep words for someone who has not made it to their majority." Ingwion teased.

"At least not in this body but I am well beyond that if you count…"

"That does not count!" Orondo interjected. "We left some interesting instructions to your favorite peredhel as well as a letter to the young king."

"You did not!" Horror showed on Glorfindel's face, which merely prompted more laughter and song all around. The hour was late indeed before the friends retired. The ragged band of tipsy Vanyar sauntered to their makeshift tents to snooze their last few hours away in this land where beauty, excitement, and danger were everyday life, where peoples of every kindred interacted for good or ill.

"Bestow my best wishes to Elrond. May Elbereth protect you all." A youthful voice made Glorfindel turn in surprise.

"Ingalor!" Glorfindel was surprised to see the young Vanya and reached out to embrace him. "I expect to see you grown and displaying a proper occupation by the time I return to Aman!"

_(1) The Elven Hymn to Elbereth is Tolkien's creation not mine._


	21. Chapter 21 The future is now

"Lord Oropher and his sons." The Herald announced.

"We are honored by the request to participate in the Council." Oropher bowed low with his hand extended over his heart. "Hantanye Herutaurë." The Avari King and his council nodded their acceptance of the greeting. Then Oropher led his family from the center of the natural amphitheater to the seats prepared for them. Slowly, a score of other Sindar houses were announced, and similarly they stepped forward to thank the ancient forest lord for the honor of attending the council. Their similar lilting melodic accents, more similar to the Avari than the faster more clipped tones of the Noldor's Sindarin, were poignant reminders of their mutual connections. Thranduil and his brother were seated behind Oropher, the head of their house. Thranduil made note of those present. The refugees from the lands of Doriath and Sirion that were represented here all had disputes with Amdir, another of the Lords of Doriath. Oropher's cousin Celeborn had a much smaller following, given the contention that had surrounded his choice of a bride from the house of Finwë. Galadriel was a singularly polarizing figure for the survivors of Doriath, though none could deny that her sway over the kinslayers had helped to save lives. Thranduil surveyed those present. Many hailed from Doriath and its surrounding farmlands. He believed that Taurangol had been one of the diplomats from Thingol's court while Maluithil was often a messenger between Doriath and the Silvan tribes.

"Lord Alagnen and Lady Celliel!" The herald announced what Thranduil thought was the final house of invited Sindar. The couple made their obeisance to the Herutaurë and took their places.

"There is an open seat next to Queen." Orodiun whispered to his older brother. Thranduil nodded his acknowledgement of the empty seat between Queen Hwelanlai and Princess Lillanlai. Then looked with interest at the lone and slightly bewildered looking elf entered the clearing. "Elrond," Orodiun gasped. The herald pointed the new comer to the center of the amphitheatre then announced in a clear, loud voice.

"Lord Elrond Eärendilion." Elrond made his way to the center to address the Lord of the Forest as was customary. All were surprised when the Herutaurë rose as Elrond made his way through the gathered crowd.

"We thank the Valar for the blessing that one of Elu's line will remain among us. In remembrance of my dear brother from the shores of Cuiviénen, we adopt thee Elrond Peredhel into our family and bid our people and our friends treat him accordingly." The forest lord announced. The word 'Peredhel' was accented with some reverence. Thranduil and his brother exchanged looks of happy surprise. This was the second claim on their friend and would further serve to help keep him safe. Both were flabbergasted when Elrond's reply came in the sweetly accented Sindarin of Doriath for Elrond had always adopted Noldor accents in his speech. Elrond bowed with his hand over his heart and promised to serve and be of service to the Herutaurë and the Avari. The simple words of the ancient oath clearly conveyed that this descendant of Elu sought not to rule.

"We welcome your gift of service and invite you to sit among us as family." The Herutaurë was obviously pleased by the young elf's words. The Queen motioned to Elrond to sit beside them. Thranduil blinked and focused on his friend, seated next to the royal couple, but the Peredhel seemed to fade into the background. Then all present were debating which groups would explore the new lands now made safe by the ending of the war and the force that Eonwë led into the bowls of the earth to find the remnants of Morgoth's minions.

_Xxxxxxxxx Approaching the shores of Aman xxxxxxxxX_

They had sailed west past a smoking island that the Valar had erected from beneath the sea. Finarfin wondered if some of the mass might have been salvaged from Beleriand, a land that had been swept beneath the sea or perhaps this was fashioned from lava from deep under the crust. His lore masters had postulated that mass could not be created or destroyed only changed in form. His head ached, and he shook it slowly. Some things were beyond his comprehension. From the look of things, it would be yen before the land cooled and trees grew, although he had heard that the Valar had ways to accelerate the process. It was hard to fathom that this uninviting smoldering mass would be transformed in less than twenty years to a lush oasis for the second born. One thing was certain. This new land of the Edain was much closer to the Undying lands. Something in his heart twisted in worry. For all the turmoil in his homeland, they had never had the second born so near. _What this might bode for the future?_ He wondered. Those that he had left behind in the east thought of the undying lands as 'free from evil'. Yet he knew this meant from 'evil' other than what might be found in an elven heart.

"Have you broken your fast, Sire?" His Seneschal joined him at the rail. They stared silently contemplating the lands of Aman that were rising on the horizon. The ship was entering the great bay of Eldamar.

"We should be docking today." Finarfin said absently.

"By this evening at the latest, but surely some food before then would be in order? Besides, I expect we will need to meet with Aran Olwë before setting out for Tirion. They might not recognize the lean warriors who now return." Manveru looked at him expectantly.

"I thank you for your concern. But I have little appetite. Perhaps it will return once we are sipping wine at Olwë's table." Weeks ago he had bid his last remaining child goodbye before stepping onto this ship. Time seemed somehow suspended. _"Galadriel!"_ He smiled at his daughter's chosen name. The war had been hard on them all but the outcome was to be celebrated. At least Morgoth had been overthrown, and many trapped elven souls were released from their bondage. Those who remained in the outer lands were now free to chart their own destinies instead of existing in constant peril.

The spires of Avallónë rose in front of them as they approached the bustling harbor of Tol Eressëa. However, it was but a small harbor compared to the bay of Eldamar in which the isle sat. A number of their ships turned to dock in Tol Eressëa's port, but Finarfin's captain charted a direct course towards the Swan Harbor. Finarfin desperately wished to find his beloved Eärwen waiting for him. He had left his Queen in Tirion to rule the council in his absence. But surely, she would have received word and journeyed to the home of her parents in anticipation of his return? Time slowed as the ship broached the entrance of the great harbor. He heard the crew shouting as they relayed orders to the elf high on the mast who translated the words into flags to signal the harbormaster. His eyes climbed upwards to watch the row of flags, the pictorial language that sailors used to communicate ship to ship. His device was on the top, flapping in the wind. The ship drew ever nearer to the royal dock.

He spotted Eärwen's jewel-like, silver hair from quite a distance. Soon he would sweep his beloved Swan-maiden into his arms and kiss her soundly. Sorrowfully, all he had to offer her was himself – his love. He had no children or grandchildren to bring her only pictures and stories. It would have to suffice. As they drew closer he noted that there were many guards surrounding her. This puzzled him. Eärwen was also beloved Princess of Alqualondë and was surely safe among her people. She stood close to two others. An elleth with shimmering dark hair that floated like a mist around her and one with golden hair who stood so close that it could only be her spouse. The Ellon looked up as if he sensed the far off scrutiny. A blinding sparkle momentarily obscured Finarfin's view. _"A Silmaril." _He realized then that this couple was Elwing and Eärendil. Little wonder that guards hovered nearby! He had only met the Peredhil twice and had not divulged the furious debates that swirled about Idril and Tuor's arrival. None knew Eärendil's parents current whereabouts, but he suspected that Idril Celebrindal and her husband resided on an estate of the Valar. Elwing and Eärendil retreated far to the north, where it was rumored they were establishing a settlement for the survivors of Gondolin and Sirion. Perhaps they, even as he, prayed for the day when their loved ones were released from Mandos' halls.

"_If only our __Findaráto were to be restored to us." _Finarfin prayed_. "Or as Finrod Felagund come into his own. It would be a blessing to learn to know him again after all his deeds in the east." _Something stirred in his heart. He felt strength and love flow from Eärwen, and looking up, he could see her smile. There was something else - a thin thread. _"It will not be long until we see our __Findaráto again." _

"It is strange to answer to many names Aran Arafinwë." Finarfin startled at his Seneschal's voice. Of course his steadfast supporter had not left his side.

"Finarfin has a pleasing ring to it." He smiled slightly. Somehow he knew that his son would always prefer Finrod to Findaráto. He had found the Sindarin version of his own name somewhat liberating, as few people in the east knew his Atar. Here, he would return to his existence as Arafinwë, King of the Noldor in Aman. The Noldor had debts to pay because of their guilt in the kinslaying. In the outer lands, he was Finarfin, a King who the people of the east equated with his great grandson Gil-Galad. He smiled at the thought. The young King had an impressive flair for diplomacy, perhaps due to the necessity of dealing with such disparate factions.

"Though I believe that Lady Indis prefers Ingalaurë." Manveru lips curled in mirth. Arafinwë laughed.

"Yes, she alone calls me that. I would be surprised to be called anything other than Arafinwë ….. to my face." He lifted an eyebrow and Manveru kept his face carefully blank. But his voice held sarcasm.

"Nothing gets by you Sire." Manveru knew the heated discussions that sometimes raged over the Arafinwë's decisions.

"We have fought battles for Kin in the outer land but our own political battles lie ahead." He was weary of battle and yet perhaps even greater trials lay ahead. For they escorted refuges west, refuges that included brave but injured warriors, lost souls, freed thralls and even the errant criminal. He cringed at the thought of explaining the presence of the schizophrenic singer to the Peredhil. Tarwatirno, his chief healer, was aboard one of the ships that transported the injured. All those ships should now be docking in Tol Eressëa. This influx of refuges would ultimately push the governments of Aman to finally discuss unpleasant issues long left unspoken. Absently, he remembered the joy and anticipation of his dearest daughter and her husband. They looked forward to forging their own future in a land purged of Morgoth. _"Aman also faces change." _He realized, _"as well a new future."_

"Do we not deserve time to recover before delving into those hot button issues?"

"It is not a question of what we deserve."

_Xxxxxxxxx Harlond on the Gulf of __Lhûn __xxxxxxxX_

"This village seems to be an amalgam of cultures." Elros noted as they road towards the longhouse at the center. Beleford and he were surveying the people who had settled in and around the Gulf of Lhûn. Accompanying them were Elros' guards. Their group of twenty warriors would look daunting to most village dwellers.

"Halt here at while Beleford, Riand, and I call on the village leaders." Elros dismounted. His two adopted brothers took their places by his side. Riand had come to terms with his disability and though he would never be able to use his one hand, he had a new purpose as one of Elros' advisors. "We do not want to appear too intimidating." They greeted people as they made their way to the longhouse. In front two muscular men regarded them seriously. The first had shoulder length black hair and hard grey solemn eyes. They stood nearly as tall as Elros and appeared to be irritated.

"What business have you here?" The first barked gruffly. The ending of each word was bitten off slightly.

"We only seek to establish contact and trade with all the people of the gulf." Elros extended his hand in a traditional greeting. "I am Elros and this is Beleford and Riand. We are all survivors and have much in common."

"Not leaders in common." The second stated angrily. But his companion admonished him.

"We must talk to find out their motives. I am Bransdin leader of this village and this is Elphir." They paused to shake hands. "If your warriors do not seek to overthrow us, you may enter our house for negotiations."

"We do not seek to take your freedom or to rule your people." Elros responded.

"Do you promise our safety and our release if we accept and accompany you inside." Beleford questioned. He was responsible for Elros' safety.

"You have my word of honor." Bransdin moved his hand over his heart and muttered something that Elros could not understand, though assumed was an oath. They entered together to partake of a traditional shared drink signifying peace between them.

_Xxxxxxxxx Guest suite in the Royal wing of Olwë's palace xxxxxxxxX_

"With your permission, Aran Arafinwë." The healer paused but did not wait for his patient to agree. Then he proceeded to unbutton the tunic and mumbled other instructions. The tunic was a soft sea green that Olwë's family favored.

Finarfin tried to concentrate on the healer's words. _"Arafinwë,"_ he considered his father-name numbly. _"When would he feel like himself again?"_ The healer was looking at him expectantly. "_Had he missed some question?" _ He returned the glaze stoically, but he only had eyes for his wife who was currently beyond the open door sipping wine with her father. It was an interminable hour of being poked and prodded by the healer. Once in a while he saw a flash of her silver hair and her smile.

"Breath in and hold." The healer ordered. He obeyed numbly.

"_Did he not think that __Tarwatirno, his chief healer was competent?"_ Arafinwë thought but hid his annoyance and wisely held his tongue. _"No, it was assumed that everyone who had traveled to the outer lands was tainted unless proven otherwise."_ He left his thoughts slide outwards to catch the ebb and flow of the tide. Anger, annoyance, and impatience flowed away from him replaced by an inner peace.

"Breath out." The healer made some notes. "I think that is enough."

"Is he well?" Eärwen was suddenly at his side helping him into his shirt. He could not hold back his joyous smile and the warmth that flowed into him at her touch. "I have never seen you so thin." She whispered as she kissed his cheek.

"Apart from being besotted." Olwë teased, though he took much comfort in this unguarded glimpse of the depth of the love between his daughter and son-in-law.

"Nothing that rest and a balanced diet will not slowly restore." Olwë's chief healer pronounced. "I would also suggest a draught to promote the clearing of your lungs and some breathing exercises. Have all those who are now returning been exposed to smoke and soot?"

"Morgoth sent his Dragons during our siege of Thangorodrim." Arafinwë replied.

"Dragons?" Eärwen was unfamiliar with the term, but Olwë had been briefed on the war.

"The Eonwë and his host met the first ones one the ground. Some were massive easily the size of the small schooners but walked on the ground and spewed fire from their mouths. The most terrible were the winged behemoths that sent fire down from above us. Eärendil fought them from the Vingilot with the Eagles as his allies. The air battle led to many injuries on the ground. But one could not help but stare at the might of Ancalagon the Black who was finally slain by Eärendil."

"Did many suffer from smoke inhalation?" The healer questioned.

"We treated those with burns and life threatening injuries first. Of smoke inhalation, I have no knowledge." Arafinwë admitted. His wife looked concerned and he decided not to mention that their daughter's husband was one of many to suffer burns from the fires from above. After all, Celeborn had healed and been reunited with their daughter.

"You case is mild, a difficulty in breathing deeply. More serious symptoms could include shortness of breath, chronic coughing, headaches."

"I can send a message to Master Tarwatirno." Arafinwë began.

"I will send it once you have eaten and taken some rest." Concern filled Eärwen's voice.

"I will assume that many of the returnees have such symptoms and widely distribute the draught and directions to my healers."

"Let it be so." Olwë nodded. The healer bowed in acknowledgement. Olwë took a moment to study the tall figure before him. The slimmer more muscular physique told him that his son-in-law had indeed participated in arduous battles. While he sensed weariness, he could feel the steel and determination that marked Arafinwë as the leader of the Noldor. Eärwen would soon need to brief her husband on the state of Tirion and the needs of his people would push concerns over his own recovery far from his mind. "Surely, you can rest at least a fortnight here and recover your strength before undertaking the journey home."

"Mirwë and Amme await us. Not to mention Nénu and Falmar." Eärwen smiled. Her brother and sister would instinctively know to keep the conversation light and entertaining. Her husband needed rest. For she and Arafinwë were still alone in tending to the needs and rule of the Noldor. These years had given her new appreciation for the pressures of leadership. She vowed not to leave the burden to Arafinwë alone.

_Xxxxxxx The Avari Camp xxxxxxX_

Thranduil waited until Elrond finished his warm up. The Peredhel seemed completely engrossed in his forms and likely did not notice who was near.

"Elrond would you like a partner to spar?" He offered a blunt training sword to his friend.

"Thranduil! It is nice to see you." Elrond sheathed the glimmering Hadhafang and exchanged his sword for Thranduil's offering.

"I have not seen you train since we arrived here." Thranduil commented and belately realized that he had not spent time with his friend since their journey here.

"I was under strict orders to rest." Elrond grinned. "Perhaps you believe that gives you the advantage." Thranduil laughed then dove forward in an attempt to catch the Peredhel off guard. Elrond parried the blow easily. They battled back and forth in the morning light. They were well matched in skill. Elrond was a hair quicker and but Thranduil was slightly stronger.

"I thought your chosen field was healing." Thranduil called using the accented Sindarin of his long departed Grandfather as they bowed to one another.

"Few of us may choose what to do." Elrond returned in the matching accent.

"I did not know that you spoke as one descended from Doriath."

"It was our tongue in our first life. I do not remember meeting you at Sirion."

"I met you and your brother but you were little tikes barely as tall as my knee. It would have been easier for you to continue to use your mother tongue." Thranduil thought that Elrond's momentary hesitation spoke volumes.

"We were … strongly encouraged not to draw further attention to ourselves."

Elrond shrug was not as nonchalant as he intended. "Mimicking the cadence and accent of those in Himring was important to our survival." It was as close to speaking of Himring that Thranduil had ever heard.

"But they say love grew between you and the kinslayers."

"And Maglor." Elrond corrected and then admitted. "I would not have survived without his care."

"They butchered our people at Sirion."

"And nearly us as well." Elrond admitted. "But it is not in our power to change the past only to endeavor to forge a better future."

"That future starts soon. There is word that a party from Mithlond approaches. Could it be Cirulian and Durgin come to escort you back? I hear you are to be the youngest ever to be appointed to a Noldor King's council."

"I would appreciate it if you told them I had been practicing and sparring periodically." Elrond said, pointedly ignoring the last comment.

"Periodically is a stretch." Thranduil laughed. "You did wait until the very last minute."

"The healers forbid me from doing anything remotely strenuous." Elrond retorted cheekily.

_Xxxxxxxxx Olwë's palace xxxxxxxxX_

The shell room was originally a children's playroom positioned in the middle of the royal wing of the palace. But the children had since grown and now it was fitted with comfortable chairs and game tables.

"They have both grown into find young," Arafinwë paused to grasp the correct word and ultimately borrowed a Sindarin word, "people. Elros will make an excellent King of Men. He is confident, compassionate, and wise beyond his years." Elwing's silver eyes were clearly brimming with tears and Eärendil was staring at the picture with pride tempered by sadness. He would wait until after dinner to give them the letters their sons had written.

"The Valar have banned us from returning." Tears leaked down the Lady's porcelain cheek. Arafinwë knew that happiness to see this image of their grown sons warred with sadness at being parted from them.

"He is preparing his people to sail for a new land much closer to ours. I know not if the powers will allow elves to visit those new lands, but perhaps they would relent and allow you time with one of your sons."

"We can only hope." Eärendil grasped his wife's shoulders.

"_These Peredhil were far too young."_ He reflected as he carefully gauged their reactions. They had had children when they were only thirty. Perhaps Eärendil had been an adult at that time, but as he looked at Elwing, he recognized the unusual currents that swirled about her. Yes, Eärendil was part elf and part man, but Elwing had the heritage of the fays - of the Maiar. _"Had she suffered like the young twins? Did she keep this side of herself secret, fearing others reactions?"_ He wondered but asked less dangerous questions aloud. "How many elves have joined your settlement in the North? Is its location secure?"

"We have settled on the name Gwaelindë, for the wind carries tunes from the north." Elwing whispered as she brushed the tears from her cheek. Eärendil cleared his throat and continued for her.

"We number less than a hundred, but together we are establishing a caring community."

"Only elves or do Maiar visit?" He looked at Elwing expectantly. When she did not comment he confided. "Your sons unusual heritage was woken by the presence of the Maiar."

"Are they suffering?" Elwing worried. Eärendil appeared perplexed.

"Did you suffer?" Eärendil and Arafinwë spoke simultaneously. Impossibly bright silver eyes glisten with tears but Elwing remained silent.

"I am told that Uinen and Ossë aided Elros. He will travel to Númenor with Eonwë, so Maiar will be near. It is my understanding that the Maiar communicate with songs beyond our hearing that their spirits thrive on their connections to others of their kind." Elwing sat seemingly impassive but her eyes told a different story. They were filled with emotion. Eärendil's surprised expression gave Arafinwë pause and he moved to sit directly across from Elwing. "Your heritage started to awake in Sirion. My guess is this happened after your husband set sail." Her head nodded slightly in acknowledgement. He took it as a signal to continue. "Perhaps Uinen and Ossë's songs combined with those of the gulls stirred your spirit in the lonely time that your spouse was far away. It is said that Lúthien could cloak or shift her shape. When did you know that you could do so as well?"

"Caring for energetic twins was tiring." Elwing admitted quietly. "When they were asleep and I was alone in my room, I used to reach out to him in my thoughts. I longed to see my husband. The birds spoke to me about his progress and invited me to join them. At first I thought I only did this in my thoughts but later…." She trailed off as is she felt this trait was shameful. Eärendil bent to kiss her brow.

"It is a part of you. I love all of you." He whispered, but his wife sat still. The entrance of Eärwen, her Amme, and her sister Mirwë interrupted them.

"Your sons?" Eärwen exclaimed as she saw the painting. "What handsome ellon!" The ellyth gently displaced Arafinwë and Eärendil from beside the noticeably unsettled Elwing. Eärwen took Elwing's hand as she sat down next to her. Soon they had Elwing sharing memories of the twin's antics as toddlers.

Arafinwë coaxed Eärendil out onto the terrace. The breathtaking view of the ocean also came with the concealing music of the waves.

"My sons have inherited some of these traits?"

"They hear the Maiar songs." Arafinwë confirmed and added. "They both have healing talents but Elrond has been training and is already a gifted healer."

"Shape-shifting?" Eärendil found this new information unsettling. It was much easier to think of Elwing's ability as having been bestowed by the Valar in her time of need.

"No, Ereinion has seen no signs of that, although your sons share a special bond and can speak mind-to-mind."

"Ereinion will take care of them?"

"For as long as they are in his care. Elros will sail with his people in but a score of years. But I think Elrond will choose to remain with Ereinion. They are the only Peredhil left, and unfortunately there are those that look upon them with distain."

"They are Turgon's as well as Elu's heirs!" Eärendil horror was evident.

"Few are left from those kingdoms." Arafinwë reminded him gently. "You are establishing a fortified stronghold in the north to keep your people safe."

"Yes, although we do not emphasis it as a stronghold."

"I think the Maiar have been helping you keep your settlement deliberately hidden from the rest of Aman. I fear we have likely brought some who do not hold your two houses so dear." Arafinwë drew a deep breath and plunged into the story of the deranged singer from Doriath who had tried to harm Elrond. "He is mental ill but…"

"My son? He was not harmed?"

"Ereinion's guards intercepted Daeron before anything happened. It was decided to send him west for healing and judgment."

"He is here?"

"On Tol Eressëa," Arafinwë confirmed. "He is well guarded, but our healers have never treated such a condition before. Thus we will request that he be sent to Lorien. There are a handful of survivors from Himring there as well. All are under guard. I believe they should be remitted to Tirion but these issues must be raised with the Teleri as well."

"There are those in Aman who are adamantly against the presence of Peredhil. Our settlement is limited to elves loyal to us." Eärendil paused. "But given my duties to the Valar, I travel often."

"You have assigned guards to Elwing."

"They must be discrete. She suffered through not one but two attacks that destroyed her homes and decimated her people. I would do everything in my power to keep her safe."

"Time will bring acceptance of your presence and will ease the need for extra security measures."

"Time will also bring more of our old friends back to us, and maybe one day at least one of our sons will join us."

"One day, when you and Elwing finally feel safe and secure, you could contemplate enlarging your family."

"It will take some time before that happens." Eärendil scoffed.

"But time is something we have."

_Xxxxxxx Mithlond xxxxxxxX_

"Surely, I can find my way from the stables to the house unaccompanied." Elrond complained. His guard had given him little privacy over their trip home.

"Of course, my Lord." Durgin held the overprotective Cirulian by the arm then gave a sweeping bow.

"I am in your dept Durgin." Elrond smiled.

"I will remember that." The guard shouted cheerfully. Elrond had barely left the stables when one of Gil-Galad's councilors intercepted him.

"Welcome back Elrond. You look better." Merwen carried several large tomes and looked to be in a hurry.

"Thank you Merwen. You look well yourself. Has it been an eventful summer?"

"Busy but it is to be expected. We are building a city." Merwen paused. "It will be nice to have your energy and input. The King plans to call on you later. I would clean up if I were you."

"Thank you for your advice." Elrond shook hands with his old mentor, then lifted his pack and walked to the palace.

"Lord Elrond." The guards on duty saluted him. Elrond returned their greeting, but was somewhat bemused by the formal address. _"With any luck the title would be forgotten soon."_ He hoped. He was happy to find that his bathing room had been completed during his absence. The sunken tub reminded him of his original room in old Mithlond. Someone must have relayed news of arrival, because the tub was already filled with warm water. He wasted no time in peeling off his grubby travel clothes and slipping into the welcome bath. The water grew cold before he could drag himself from that comfortable setting. He pulled on clean underclothes and leggings and then further worked at towel drying his hair. He would need at least a formal tunic if he were to go to dinner. He moved to the bedroom to check if there was something appropriate in the wardrobe.

"Ereinion!" Elrond gasped in surprise and moved to adjust the towel. His face flamed with embarrassment.

"I did send word that I would call on you." Gil-Galad merely laughed and watched in amusement as Elrond hurried to pull on a shirt. "You do look much better. Herutaurë sent us a note about your progress in the middle of the summer."

"Am I to always be under such scrutiny?" Elrond complained.

"I pushed you into accepting too much responsibility at a tender age. At least allow me to remedy that, however, slightly."

"It was out of necessity. The war took too many choices from us."

"That may be true. But I would not have conscripted an elf your age into service."

"But I am a Peredhel."

"Ah, but the powers that be have declared you of elven kind. I realize that I have always thought of you as such." Gil-Galad paused but was not surprised when Elrond did not add anything to the statement. He pushed a basket containing some papers toward Elrond. "You have letters. Why not see who has been writing you?" He watched Elrond flinch, then draw a deep breath to take the basket. Elros' seal was clearly recognizable, but some of the others that lacked clear, identifiable seals had been opened.

"Why?" Elrond held up on of those letters.

"Why did you not tell us that you were receiving threatening letters? Surely, it is important for your security to let the guards and my Seneschal know." Gil-Galad watched Elrond's reactions closely. Then he stood to pull Elrond into his arms.

"Elrond, your safety is very important to many people, not the least of which include Elros and myself." Ereinion was having none of Elrond's self-deprecating response. "I want you to promise me that you will immediately alert the guards should threats in any form surface. Elros is well protected, as am I. We can only protect you if you are an active part of this process. That means you will not be slipping away from your personal guard, especially in the coming years as we struggle to rebuild our culture and our city." Elrond blinked too astonished to respond immediately.

"I am making this an order as your King." Ereinion stepped back. His voice carried all the authority of his position.

"I promise my King." Elrond bowed with his hand over his heart.

"That is better. I do not want anything to happen to my youngest but most trusted councilor. In the coming months, you and Merwen will be very busy organizing our houses of learning. I also promised Elros that you would spend next summer with him. Does that sound appealing?"

"Yes my King." Elrond smiled at being assigned tasks he would have readily volunteered to do.

"I have had enough of King duties today." Ereinion laughed and clapped Elrond on the back. "Indiriel awaits us for the evening meal and you could stand to eat some extra meals."

_Xxxxxxxxx Harlond on the Gulf of __Lhûn __xxxxxxxX_

"Will all our people be required to sail?" Elphir asked Elros.

"Eonwë says we are invited to sail soon for lush lands that the Valar are preparing for us. But their definition of soon is nearly twenty years from now." Elros paused. "Do you think that many will prefer to remain here?"

"Twenty years is a whole generation of our people. We will have established new lives here." Bransdin reasoned.

"Why should we be forced from our lands!" Elphir exclaimed, his strange accent again noticeable.

"It is your choice. Already there are eight new villages lining the gulf coast. I think many will chose to sail. But others will remain." Elros was hard pressed to keep a calm voice and an amiable demeanor during the meal. It seemed as if these people sought to antagonize them. He had recognized some of their language and saw an opening to voice his curiosity. "Are some your people are from the House of Haladin?"

"What difference does that make to you?" Bransdin nearly growled.

"I learned some of the Haladin tongue when I was young. It is a rich and expressive language."

"And sadly a dying tongue." Elphir lamented.

"The peoples of men share a common heritage, though language has held us apart in the past. It may be that more of your people adopt our tongue or it could be that our languages are beginning to merge and evolve together. I know many stems that come from Haladin words." The irate leader seemed mollified by Elros' comments.

"Still, why should beings other than men decide who will rule us?"

"I will be the last to hoard my will over your people. Those who chose to sail with us; however, will need to accept our government. But if you chose to remain in these lands you are free to develop your own leadership. It will be necessary for you to live peacefully and trade with the elves."

"And trade with your people?"

"Once we have an idea how far away these new lands are, we can evaluate the possibility and logistics of such trade routes."

"Our people would feel more at ease trading with men versus those mystifying elves." Elphir shivered, his fear belied an untold story.

"One must take advantage of opportunities where ever they lie. We now have a future to forge for ourselves." Riand raised his glass in toast. Elros was heartened that his dear friend had found a purpose even as he realized that the people of this village noted and honored his war injury, accepting it as a badge of bravery.

"Truer words were never spoken." Elros raised his own glass in toast. "To the future!"


End file.
